


Our Summer

by IzzyLightwood



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: I don't dance, M/M, Summer, hsm2 au no one asked for, lava springs, partay, uni - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9899210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyLightwood/pseuds/IzzyLightwood
Summary: Boy meets boy at a party. Boy leaves said party and thinks he won't ever see boy again. Except he does, and at the last place he'd possibly imagine. Now he has to face up to the things he's been denying all these years, but can he do it?





	1. Friday, June 17th – A Night to Remember

     Dan always found the best part of every year was the summer. That wasn’t just because he was a teenage boy and education was the worst. Dan in fact loved his school days—as he was quite popular and enjoyed seeing his friends all while able to maintain high letter grades—and university was mostly the same. And he very much loved autumn as well, so it wasn’t that he preferred the heat of summer. He just found that his back porch in Wokingham was the best place to be, with a beer stolen from his parents’ fridge—he was trying to force his taste buds to like the stuff before he was actually legal worldwide (as Cat liked to tease) but it was hard—and maybe a couple friends. It was peaceful. Life at university was great. It was. But there was something about those warm summer nights that always kept him drawn in.

     This year, before the beginning of the new semester at Manchester in the fall, Dan and his family had plans to go to a party in London to celebrate the break, some swanky place another family they knew owned. As much as Dan went out with his friends, all he did that for was them, not himself. If he could save ‘going out’ for dinners and important events such as his mum’s birthday he most certainly would. But having friends like Cat Valdes and Caspar Lee prevented that sort of behaviour, for the most part. Not to get it wrong, Dan loved them dearly. They were great friends, and he knew that they only pushed him to go out because God knew he needed the fresh air. It sucked sometimes, though, since if he weren’t so busy all the time Dan was sure he would love to maybe film videos, put them up online. Of course there wasn’t any sort of platform on the web to do anything like that, go figure. 2016 had some serious game to step up.

     It was just a party. Probably going to be filled with weird adults asking what university life was like these days, or pretending like they remembered it exactly. Dan could deal with that. Dan was _used_ to that. But it didn’t mean he had to like it. Attending a social event meant also that he, as always, had to straighten his unruly hair affectionately nicknamed courtesy of LOTR-fanboy PJ: hobbit hair. Brown quiffs all sorts of annoying. Black studs in his ears and one fringe check later, Dan was ready to go. Well, ready as ever.

     It was somewhat strange to have his parents drive him to a party, but they knew that if he were to drink there it would be a safe bet to have a ride home. Dan had taken a liking to most alcoholic drinks (working on beer…) as soon as he was barely legal, and despite that was what Caspar would call a lightweight. Harsh but true.

     “If we don’t see you,” Dan’s mum was saying, “meet us back here around midnight.” She closed the car door and stood in front of her son, straightening the jacket he was wearing like she didn’t realise she was doing so. Mothers. “Anything happens, call a cab, yeah?”

     “Yeah, Mum.”

     She patted his cheek and gestured to the car’s right side, where Mr. Howell was adjusting his tie. He saw her signal and winked at Dan before following her in her path down the street, toward the house. More like mansion. Coming to this place always made Dan feel awkward, despite personally knowing their son. He felt awkward the majority of the time, granted, but this didn’t help.

     Oh well. Just have to grin and bear it; there’s a good lad.

     Of course when Dan walked in there were already what had to be over 200 people, all with a glass in hand and chatter bubbling. His mum had informed him that there would be a few more teens/young adults than normal this year, and that ‘their gathering’ would be held in a section of the house cut off from the rest. Basically the pool house, but glowed up. Dan wove his way through the throng of people he had either never seen before in his life or met so briefly that he had forgotten them entirely until he made it to the back door of the mansion, and right there was the pool house. He hurried to it, wishing momentarily that Cat or Caspar had been able to come. PJ wasn’t due home from Peterborough until the following night; Chris was with PJ; Zoe was visiting family out of the country; and the other two just did not want to come to this. Dan couldn’t blame them. It was usually pretty dull, but involved free booze so he couldn’t complain. All that much.

     The pool house was filled with a few people, maybe twenty, and Dan could feel his rigid muscles somewhat relax. This was better than he had expected. Maybe he’d even meet a couple people who went to the University of Manchester as he and his friends did.

     “It’s almost nine, and those of you who’ve been here all night know that nine o’clock means karaoke hour,” a D.J. announced over his speaker at the front of the room. Dan looked around, arms crossed over his chest. Multicolored lights were filtering throughout the room, and the walls were mainly windows. A stage was set up, a TV on the wall behind it. Loaded. Dan had been in here lots of times, but then it was usually just him and Charlie minus the rainbow ceiling lights. Very 2009.

     “If you want to sing, you can come and sign on up, but the first performance will have the goal of loosening the crowd: a joke duet, to make it easier, and it will be _random_.” There were some shouts, all from people who were clearly more comfortable than Dan was right in that moment. How could they possibly do that to somebody, embarrass them like that? Dan would rather let Cas tickle his neck than be forced to perform in front of a bunch of strangers.

     “We’ve got this guy…” Dan couldn’t even watch. He put a hand as a visor to his forehead to block the sight. Some poor sucker had just been targeted; hopefully whoever they chose to sing with him wouldn’t suck.

     And then he was being pulled—towards the stage. Unreal unbelievable un-flipping—

     He fought, he honestly did. He was trying to appear casual, but Dan was more certain that he looked like he was having a panic-attack as he shook his head, a grotesque mockery of a smile yanking at his lips, and his hands waving wildly. PJ, he who loved to be the centre of attention, would be utterly ashamed to call him friend. Meanwhile Dan wanted to die. Why was he only extroverted in front of his friends? That couldn’t possibly be fair.

     His eyes were up but he wasn’t seeing, the arms that had propelled him onstage depositing him there without remorse. Was this some sort of cruel joke sponsored by Adrian, that little prick that hadn’t even had to come to this stupid party in the first place? _Sick_ Dan’s ass; he knew it had been a scam. Brothers were the worst.

     “What’re you names?” DJ Dickhead asked Dan and the guy next to him. Dan still refused to look at him, even though he knew maybe they could share a relatable wide-eyed and frantic glance that could bond them in this Dan’s moment of despair. Whatever. He couldn’t look at anything but the teens (Okay, well, Dan had turned 19 only the week before; could he be classified as a teenager anymore? Where had the good times gone? Also, were they really good times?) who looked right excited about this entire thing. Dan spotted a clapping muscled man some feet away offstage and sent a glare his way: that had to be the one who’d shoved him so inconsiderately into this situation.

     Dan all of a sudden felt like one of the creepy aliens of _Toy Story_ waiting for the Claw—he’d been grabbed, except he for one had not asked for this nor did he welcome the cold hand of embarrassment that came along with it to poke at his neck. He really did hate people touching his neck.

     DJ D was still waiting, and Dan wasn’t sure how long had gone by before he opened his mouth to mumble out, “Dan. I’m Dan.” Should’ve given a fake name. His birth-name bounced off the microphone in a horrifyingly loud manner, although he’d been sure he had mumbled, and his voice came out so much squeakier than he knew it to be (hopefully). Could this be worse? Actually, his friends could be here to laugh and record this, so probably yeah. Small blessings. Cas and Peej would have a field day.

     “I’m Phil,” the other boy said, in a quieter voice but one that sounded a tad more confident at least than Dan’s had. Dan dared to look his way, then, and saw that the boy could possibly be older than Dan himself, though it couldn’t be by much: He oddly enough gave off the impression that he was either 18 or 23 with no in between. His hair was jet black, and when a swinging magenta light flashed against his eyes, Dan could see that they were a pale blue. Observation alone told Dan that he was way too good looking to be spending a Friday night in this scene.

     “Dan and Phil,” the DJ intoned, grinning. “You’ll be singing Britney Spears' Toxic. This is just for fun, so don’t worry about sounding too bad, alright?”

     Yes, DJ Dickhead, give two men a song performed by a fucking _soprano_. Honestly, what.

     Phil beside Dan only nodded at the DJ’s advice, and the song began. As if Dan didn’t remember singing this with Cat way back when. But let’s be honest: he totally hadn’t sung it since like 2010.

     Liar. Dan couldn’t say that he and Phil sounded good. He couldn’t say that. But Dan remembered every single word, and Phil had gone right along with him with ease. Dan hadn’t had vocal lessons since drama classes back in junior high, and neither of them could sing a note on key for more than a half second, but it was fun. Honest to God fun.

     The makeshift audience was actually clapping for them and laughing, but not at them: _with_ them. Phil’s entire face was consumed in a smile, his tongue poking out from between his teeth at every rest in a childish expression of excitement.

     Dan was, needless to say, shook.

     Phil sent another quick smile and wave his audience’s way before hopping off the stage and going to the seating area at the other side of the room. Dan made sure the microphone was secure in its stand before scurrying off as well, after Phil.

     “So that was something,” he said when he reached Phil. The music, however, was so loud that Phil propped forward, gesturing to his ears. Dan unfolded his stiff arms and leaned down for a moment to Phil’s seated height. “So that was something!” he repeated loudly.

     “Oh, yeah,” Phil agreed, nodding. “Didn’t see that coming.”

     “Last thing I expected when I walked in here,” Dan said. “With my luck I can’t say I’m surprised.”

     Phil laughed. “Me neither.” He stood up and offered a hand, something that with anyone else would have come across as awkward. “Phil Lester.”

     “Dan Howell. Pleased to meet you.” Dan motioned back at the stage, where yet another person was being drafted for a solo. “You did good up there. Better than me.”

     “Yeah, right,” Phil said, and Dan was half-hoping that his laugh would again bring the smile from before, with the tongue, and then Dan wanted to delete himself for thinking so. “I was just trying not to pass out.”

     “You didn’t show it. You were amazing.” Dan couldn’t believe he’d said that. There were so many other word choices, manlier options such as _awesome_ , or _rad_. _Amazing_. What a stupid thing to say to a complete stranger who now probably thought Dan was a twink. “Erm, do you perform often?” Yes, Dan, very nice save. Honestly, at this point he should just add ‘failing at interactions with (new) people’ to the list of reasons why he’s a fail. Yay.

     “I did when I was a kid but not so much anymore,” Phil said. “Mostly filmed home videos with my brother and my friends. Nothing major.”

     “I was in Theatre as a kid and had to perform loads of times.” Dan sighed with a little laugh as he remembered those days, spinning on the teacher’s swivel chair and propelling Cat down the hall on it. “Of course that was before I realised that the world contains critiques.”

     “Did you like to go in front of people? Before that?”

     “I guess. Most of the productions I was in were shit though so I have nothing legitimate to use as a reference at this point.” Dan glanced around. “Now I’m in university and struggling to work through to a law degree. Contract actually makes me want to kill myself.”

     Phil tilted his head. “Why’d you choose it?”

     “Oh, you know—wanting to make my parents proud of me for once, thinking that it would change me as a person into someone respectable.” Dan stopped. If this guy had been weirded out before, he definitely would be now. Why was he dumping his pathetic life-story onto this person he’d met five minutes ago? Not a way to make friends, Dan!

     “I get it. My parents are constantly asking me what I plan to do with my life,” Phil told him in an understanding way. “As if I’m not terrified already. It’s the worst.”

     “It really is.” Either Phil was really good at pretending to be nice or he was a genuinely great person. Either way, Dan wanted to keep talking to him. If only he could keep his weirdness from embarrassing him further. “Knowing my parents, I think I might be here a while.” Dan gestured to the sofa, and Phil easily sat back down beside Dan. Okay, maybe this was looking up. But only maybe.

***

     Fun: drinking with friends.

     Not fun: vomiting up the good times the following morning.

     Dan spent the night with Phil, drinking Malibu. He’d begun with a glass, but by the third he figured the bottle itself would suffice. Phil was content to lean against the wall of the pool house with a simple cup of something fruity, unwilling to drink half as much as Dan. What a phenomenal first impression this was turning out to be. The next best thing would be a stomach pump.

     They played a drunken game of Just Dance 2 (tipsy, on Phil’s part) and both were so awful that they called it a draw despite the fact that Dan had gotten a couple points higher than Phil. Laughable, to be honest. They’d only chosen the second edition because it featured a cover of Toxic and seemed funny in their state. Attempting a game of pool was probably a mistake, as neither of them were all that good at pool to begin with let alone while not totally sober. They even volunteered to sing another song, which turned out to be not a song but random words they managed to screech onstage over the actual music. One went like this, mostly written by Dan in the moment (quite obviously, as it made little to no legitimate sense), with a beatboxing (kind of?) Phil throughout…

“They’re wood!

You step on them and they climb!

They’re made of metal!

They go up!

If you’re a fireman, they’re really high!”

     …This appropriately ended with a very high-pitched “Ladders!” on an elongated note courtesy of the amazing Phil. Overall a rewarding experience for the two of them.

     Tuckered out, Dan fell to the floor beside the sofa, the bottle of Malibu somehow again in his hands. It was very nearly empty. Mistakes were made. Phil sat next to him, heavy dark hair falling into his eyes. He pushed it away with a little laugh, still a bit tipsy. Dan’s eyes were focusing on things around him again, which meant there was good news: he was less wasted than he had been only twenty minutes ago.

     Tomorrow’s hangover would bite his ass _hard_.

     He closed his eyes for a second, preparing himself after that knowledge hit him (as it always did), and then breathed out. He then looked over at Phil and said, “If I throw up, flip me over onto my side. PJ taught me the rescue position.”

     “Who’s PJ?” Phil inquired.

     “My friend.”

     “Best friend?”

     “Sort of. I don’t really have one,” Dan said. For a second, he could almost feel the way his fringe had been back in 2009, slipping into his eyes so much he’d sometimes just steal Cat’s hair bands to keep it away. He loved his friends, he really did. But sometimes he didn’t feel connected to them, and he couldn’t explain it. He just didn’t have a person in his life that he _loved_ the way you’re meant to love a best friend, forever. Maybe Dan was just dumb for thinking so and wouldn’t know the feeling if it slapped him across the face.

     “Really? That’s so sad,” Phil said, lip pouting out in the slightest to further express this sadness.

     “Is it?” Dan shrugged up his shoulders a little. He didn’t like to think about it.

     “I can be your best friend,” Phil told him confidently. He grinned. “If you want.”

     Dan looked over at Phil, and studied his face, then his t-shirt which featured a penguin with a rocket strapped on its back. Why would this guy want to be his best friend, and did Dan even want that?

     “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “What the hell, right?”

     Phil’s smile widened, and Dan felt a weird twitch on his face. He was smiling too. Way too widely, but Phil didn’t seem to notice. This party had definitely been worthwhile. Dan could feel his eyes falling, and he knew to where but he didn’t want to do what he wanted to do because doing what he wanted to do would mean bad things for so many people, people he cared a lot about. Another fail: Dan cared way too much, about everything.

     Dan didn’t have the chance to mess up in any sort of way, because there were scattered voices saying that it was midnight, and wasn’t he supposed to meet his parents at the car right now? (A fantastic three-hour ride. Why hadn’t they taken the bloody train?) He jumped to his feet, much too quickly for the state he was in, and Phil did so as well, though with less hurry.

     “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together. Dan noticed that they weren’t black like the hair on his head. Phil dyed his hair, then, probably for the aesthetic. Dan internally whacked himself for being so tuned into Phil (after having only just met as well) that he noticed this even while drunk. Sobering up, sure, but seriously.

     “I’ve got to go,” he told Phil. “It’s midnight.”

     “Why didn’t you tell me your pumpkin carriage was waiting?” Phil asked. Dan stared at him, and it was only when Phil began to laugh that laugh of his and smile that smile Dan realised he was referring to Cinderella.

     “Oh, no, it’s just—My mum’s expecting me at the car,” Dan explained. Mummy drives you around, yes, spill all your sad secrets. Fantastic. “So I can’t keep her and my dad too long.”

     “Oh, alright. I’ll see you ’round then,” Phil said. His accent was interesting. A tad northern?

     “Sure. See you. It was a fun night.” Dan cringed at himself and hurried away for the doors, feeling like shit and wishing he could just go to sleep. He forced himself not to look back at Phil as he left, but it was when he was in the back of the car, his mum’s voice ringing from the front seat, that Dan realized he hadn’t gotten Phil’s mobile number.

     All he had going by way of info was a pretty common name and dyed black hair. And incredible blue eyes. Can’t forget those.

     _Shit_.

 


	2. Saturday, June 18th – Now or Never

     Dan refused to get out of bed until it was past midday, and by the time he actually managed to crawl his ass out of bed, vivid memories of vomiting and the unhealthy green tint of his skin beforehand tripping over themselves in his head—which was still throbbing, mind you, but at a duller ache—he swore for the umpteenth time that he was done drinking. And, because he knew that he was lying, for the umpteenth time he asked himself, _Is this alcoholism_?

     His parents had made sure that he was resting on his side, and had passed the task to Adrian when they’d had to go off for work that morning. Of course Adrian, the little bugger, left minutes after they had and was certain that Dan would be completely fine. Dan, out of spite, almost wished he had died.

     He dragged himself into the kitchen, his feet barely lifting from the linoleum flooring, and grabbed his Shreddies (though he preferred Crunchy Nut) from the cupboard. He had a specific box separate from the rest with his name written on the top, just so no one could eat it but him. There was nothing worse than waking up to see that his brother had eaten all the rest of the goddamn Shreddies, and Dan had sworn going on four years back that it wouldn’t be happening any time again soon.

     He plopped onto the lounge’s couch, spooning sugary cereal into his mouth while simultaneously scrolling Tumblr. He was 19 years old; you’d think he would no longer have a Tumblr account to speak of. It should have gone right out the window with MySpace but Dan knew that if the latter were still around he would probably have that as well until he died, and then in his will probably assign a friend to watch over it next.

     Two wheat squares were left floating in the bowl when Dan fell asleep, his laptop fallen over onto the sofa cushion to Dan’s right. After two, he was rudely awakened by the ringing of his cell phone.

_♪_ _And we will send you reeling from decimated dreams_

_Your misery and hate will kill us all_

_So paint it black and take it—_ _♪_

     Dan jolted forward to grab his phone and put an end to the incessant blast of MCR. Who the hell called anyone anymore in 2016? (To be fair, who had an MCR ringtone in 2016? Dan.)

     “Guess who!” the all too familiar voice crowed on the line. Dan wanted to shove a sock down his own throat, but was of course too nice a person to do so.

     “Jenna…” he said, hoping he sounded far more enthusiastic than he felt.

     “Danny!” Wrong. God, so wrong. “I have fantastic news for you; you’re going to love me.” Jenna was always so perky, but Dan couldn’t help the feeling that it was all an act. Her brother, Tyler even thought himself so cool as to go by Tyler Oakley (middle name) instead of their given surname of Mourey. Americans. Some students at Manchester even called his sister Jenna “Marbles” because she was so insane… in the best way, of course.

     Dan sat up a little so that he could breathe easier. This hangover was really _hanging on_. Cringe. Exit stage right. Dan shuddered at his ability to make terrible puns even in his current state and asked, “What’s up, Jenna?”

     “Just the best thing ever,” she assured him. “So you know how my family spends our summers in Miami, at our country club?”

     Dan did know this, in fact. The resort was in Florida and was called Lava Springs. Every time Dan heard the name he wanted to die at its stupidity. The Mourey family owned the club; changing its name to something less terrible couldn’t hurt business. “I do. Why’re you bringing it up?”

     “Well I know how you’ve been waiting for a job opportunity—” More like his parents had for the past ten years been hounding Dan on the topic of what the hell he was going to do with his life. He remembered the night before, and the look of understanding on Phil’s face when he’d related to the sentiment. Dan shrugged this away, very much aware that even slightly pining over someone he barely knew was a waste of time. Not to mention that he wasn’t even gay. But he couldn’t think about that right now. Or ever.

     “What, you found me a job?” Dan asked her, incredulous and very much unserious. He even laughed at the thought, but Jenna’s giggling on her end made his bemused smile slip. “Wait, you found me a job?”

     “A summer job, yes, but it can be a _permanent_ summer thing, if you do well,” Jenna told him. “I’ve set up a meeting with the manager, Richard Fulton, for tomorrow at three, but you’re basically guaranteed an in.”

     “How is that possible?” Dan said, tongue tied.

     “He’s a family friend, I can make him do whatever I want, yadda yadda. Just go to the meeting and charm him.”

     “Jenna, I mean—This is nice of you, so nice, but—I haven’t prepared to go to M—”

     “Look, Danny, I’m positive that this will be absolutely perfect,” Jenna insisted. “Don’t worry. It’s guaranteed. I’ve even texted you the details for everything you could possibly need.”

     Dan took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it between his lips in a quiet hiss. Jenna had done a nice thing by suggesting him to a country club. One so high-end that she and her family went there as well? The pay would be off the charts. The left half of Dan’s mouth turned up in a smile.

     “You know what, Jenna, I really appreciate this. I’ve got some things to work out before tomorrow, so thanks and… I’ll be seeing you.” Before she could say anything, Dan hung up and speed-dialed Caspar.

     “Buddy,” he said without a hello, “have I got news for you.”

***

     Law school was paying off in the slightest. Dan was able to scrape on his suit after a quick and very cold shower, straighten the mess that was his hobbit hair, and check five times that he smelled of nothing but sandalwood. Check. This would be great. It would.

     He walked into the Stockport office on the button—home of the U.K. headquarters for Lava Springs—and told the secretary his name. Five minutes later he was seated in Richard Fulton’s office, fifth floor.

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Daniel,” Mr. Fulton said, extending a hand for a shake. Dan nodded and accepted it.

     “Likewise. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that I’ve gotten this opportunity,” he said. He wanted to hit himself for sounding like such a kiss-ass… but kiss-asses got shit done.

     “I’m a personal friend to Jennifer and her family; she’s told me many good things about you. I had to see for myself.” Richard leaned back in his chair. His desk was huge and a dark wood, polished to a shine. Dan felt out of place. His socks were mismatched, the right with the American flag (ironically of course) and the other with blue and purple stripes. “You attend the University of Manchester, with Jenna and Tyler?”

     “I do.”

     “Studying law?”

     “Yes. I do enjoy finally learning what the queen does.” Mr. Fulton laughed, and Dan breathed an internal sigh of relief. If he could just get this job, his parents would lay the hell off, for at least a little while. “It’s been fun. Not the easiest, but worthwhile.”

     “I’m glad to hear it.” Mr. Fulton studied Dan. “You know, son, I believe Lava Springs would be quite lucky to have you.”

     Dan almost couldn't believe it. An annoying voice at the back of his mind wondered whether this man would like Dan so much if he knew of his penchant for swears and black-stud earrings. “Thank you, sir!”

     “No problem at all.”

     “If I may…” Dan said, carefully, “do you have many workers for this summer as of today?”

     “Not too many.” Richard shook his head in evident disappointment. “This is the rare year we’ve had to scout for new blood. Why do you ask?”

     Dan straightened in his chair. “Well, I’ve a few friends in need of work. They all go to school with me at Manchester, and would love to have this opportunity as much as I do. If you’ll have them.”

     “How many of your friends are we talking about here?”

     “I have five, sir.”

     “Five, you say?” Mr. Fulton rubbed his chin in thought. “I think that may be just what we need. You know what, let’s go with it. If your friends are as bright as you, I’m sure they will make an excellent fit.”

     “I can’t thank you enough,” Dan said, and he meant it. This summer would be perfect. Money, working with his friends, and a country club. This could not go wrong.


	3. Friday, July 1st – The Start of Something New

     Dan’s parents couldn’t be more thrilled with Dan’s new plans, and were more than happy for him to go to Miami. Dan was slightly offended that they were so keen to be rid of him, but ignored that. He was going to Florida with his five closest friends, and they would be earning cash besides. There was no better deal than that.

     Less than a week after his meeting with Fulton, they six arrived at the airport, luggage ready for their summer-long stay in the States. Staff had their own house separate from the rest of the resort (still on the property), so of course Caspar was more than ready for a party. Had Joe been going to Lava Springs he would be ready as well; he was always up for a good time, but he already had a job and—though it disappointed his sister Zoe, who would be going—he couldn’t take a summer off in favor of another, especially not when it meant leaving the country.

     “Let’s all have a moment, shall we, to thank our God—Daniel James Howell—for attaining these jobs for us,” PJ said, as they were called to board the airplane.

     “Shut up,” Dan laughed.

     “Hey, he’s right, mate,” Caspar said. He tried to put an arm around Dan’s shoulders, but as Dan was a couple inches taller than his six foot two, it was rough going. “We’d’ve been poor this coming year at U of M hadn’t you saved our asses.”

     “Jenna saved our asses,” Dan corrected. “She put the word in for us.” Everyone laughed, and Dan looked around. “Someone feel free to let me in on the joke.”

     “Come on, man,” Chris said, laughing. “Jenna’s been trying to get on you for years. Are you so blind?”

     Dan whacked Chris’ arm, sure that his neck up to his face would be splitting red. “Shut up, prick. I’m not into Jenna like that.”

     “You never date,” PJ said, as though a nice reminder. “And sure, Jenna may be two bricks short of a load, but she’s not too bad on the eyes.”

     Zoe and Cat stared at him in an offended way. “I don’t think that matters,” Cat said to him pointedly. “Jenna is just not a nice person. We all know she only did this to get at Dan, but that doesn’t mean he has to take her up on her advances.”

     “Unless you want to,” Zoe added quickly to Dan.

     “Which I don’t. Don’t you twats think I have more important things to be thinking of rather than my nonexistent love life?” Dan demanded. “Such as—I don’t know, law school, or who’s eating my cereal?”

     “One of these things is not like the other…” Caspar chirped in a sing-song tone and, laughing, Chris bumped his arm.

     “Let’s just go,” Dan mumbled, his shoulders hunching over. The absolute last thing he liked to talk or think about was love. “We don’t have all day.”

***

     Having left the track at a little past eight in the morning, the gang made it to Miami around 1:30 p.m. The rest of the day would be spent in their attempts to rid themselves of the jet lag that would prevent them from beginning work on Monday. They also spent a good amount of time studying the menus they would have to know for the first week, and it wasn’t too difficult since they’d been looking them over since receiving them in the mail a couple days before.

     It was around two in the afternoon on Sunday when Dan decided that he needed to force his body to move around. He grabbed one of his many dread contract law books from the tornado of his and PJ’s room and agreed to sit by the pool with the other five. He snagged a seat to recline on, aware that the sun above would be tanning his skin to a burnt toast color. He would for the rest of his time here look more-than-a little-vaguely Mexican. Brilliant.

     Cas, Zoe, and PJ were splashing around—the pool was huge, by the way, and had a slide plus two diving boards at opposite ends—while Chris and Cat opted to sit with Dan, to his right. Sun blinding his eyes, a figure fell in the pool chair to his left, and Dan wasn’t able to say a word before she exclaimed, “I can’t believe you’re here!” Her blue gaze was sharp, and was clearly trying very hard to ignore Dan’s friends. It was exceedingly obvious that Jenna hadn’t planned on Dan’s inviting his buds to crash her summer alone with him. (She and her family had only just arrived today, and the jet lag hadn’t gotten at her—yet.) Caspar and PJ shared a look, as did Chris and Cat. Caspar ignored them all and continued splashing.

     “Yeah, it’s…” Dan realised he had no idea what to say. “It’s really something. Thanks again.”

     “It was no problem,” Jenna told him. She didn’t appear to have any intention of leaving the way she’d come, so Dan stood up.

     “You know what, I’ve got to pee,” he said, in that classy manner he’d so carefully honed. He began to walk away, and of course Jenna jumped to follow. He turned around to stop her—he wasn’t entirely certain how he would do that, as she had always been persistent, but in the half-second before what was about to go down he was sure that he could figure something out—and then came to a stop himself.

     Entering through the front gate was the guy from Friday night; they’d sung Toxic and spent the night together. Dancing and singing; not—

     Phil looked over right then, because the universe loved to fuck with Dan Howell, and waved. He actually _waved_. He remembered Dan? It wasn’t like he was a memorable person! (But that was dumb; he remembered Phil Lester, and he’d been the least sober person in the room. Maybe saying that out loud, any of that, was a mistake…) Dan nearly waved in return, but stepped backwards out of sheer shock and, ever the clumsy idiot, stumbled over his own flip-flop. This is why he didn’t wear them. They were a hazard and not to be trusted. He fell back, the water of the pool he had sworn he wouldn’t go into to save himself the trouble of re-straightening his hair catching him in his shining moment.

     Phil had his hands over his mouth and blue eyes wide as he began to hurry over, Cat and Zoe were laughing but worried, and the guys were just having a great time at Dan’s expense. Jenna was utterly confused, and Dan was mortified. As usual.

     Dan dragged himself out of the pool, his t-shirt and swim trunks now certifiably soaked and clinging to his body in the worst places. His hair would be a tangled mess at this point and he was sure that he was the least attractive person in this moment to any other with eyes. He stood before Jenna, whose hands were frozen to her cheeks, and even Dan’s friends had stopped laughing to see what would happen. Cat had kindly hurried to grab him a towel, as was her way, and gently slipped it over him. Dan was dumbstruck. All he could think to do was pick up the book from his chair, hold the towel around his shoulders, and walk out of the pool area.

     “What’s that sound?” he said to himself. “Oh, it’s my dignity. In flames.”

     Fail number some-count-above-80: talking to himself.

***

     Dan had made sure to avoid Phil’s eyes as he basically jogged across the grass back to the staff house on the opposite side of the yard. Now he was sat in the room he shared with PJ and felt completely and utterly ruined. His real job hadn’t even begun yet and he’d already managed to embarrass himself, quite epically, in front of all of his friends plus the guy he’d—

     Nope nope nopety nope nope nope nope. No.

     He was 19 bloody years old for Christ’s sake; he should be over this by now. What was his problem? This whole thing was supposed to be a phase, something he played at for a cool emo image back in the day. Not a permanent shit-fest inevitably meant to fuck with his life.

     Dan felt better (by a little) after a hot shower, allowing himself to fall onto his bed to stare up at the ceiling. This _summer-job_ thing had seemed like an absolutely brilliant idea for about a day, but now that he was actually here Dan had no idea what he was going to do. What had he been thinking, agreeing to this? Cash and getting away from his family could not be worth two months of pushing away unwanted attention (Jenna) and waiting on snobby, boring families with way too much money to spend.

     But that was exactly why he was here. Tips. He needed to put this in perspective and keep in mind that he desperately needed this if he ever wanted to get out of his parents’ house. He had to stick it out. Sure, Phil was here for whatever reason and Dan hadn’t at all expected to ever see him again. Sure, that thought had been an interminable and relentless sharp needle in the back of Dan’s brain for the past five days. But it didn’t matter. He would work this out. He had to.

***

     Dan headed to the staff mess hall by sheer force of will alone to meet up with the gang after about two hours of sulking in his room on Tumblr. At least he had free Wi-Fi as an escape.

     When he walked into the room, which had a few other members of L.S. staff around at separate tables, Caspar began to clap, and the others in their group followed suit. They were smiling, and Dan knew they were only kidding, so he bowed and waved a formal hand to show that he was okay with it. Or at least was trying to be.

     “Thank you, thank you,” he said. “I’ll be here all summer.” He slid into the seat beside Cat, who leaned closer to whisper, “You okay? I didn’t want to bother you at your room.”

     Moments like these made Dan wonder if Americans were truly kinder than the Brits. Then he remembered Jenna, and wanted to cringe. “I’m fine,” he told Cat. “Just starving at the moment.” Dan looked around the table and saw that everyone had sandwiches and crisps. “You ordered?”

     “You’re late, man,” Caspar said. “We’re the staff, we have to make our _own_ dinners.”

     “We weren’t sure what you’d like on your sandwich,” Zoe added, apologetic.

     “Right.” Dan pushed his chair back and walked to the double doors that led to the kitchen, where he would be working for the next couple months. On the opposite side was the dining room meant for guests. He was relieved to have been assigned floor duty; no way could he’d have cooked. He was infamous for burning water and his uncertainty at making toast.

     He saw they’d left the bread out for him, and Dan brightened in the slightest. Sometimes his friends didn’t completely suck. He rummaged in the staff-only fridge for jelly, then the cupboard for peanut butter. First night and his dinner was a PB-and-J sandwich. He couldn’t hear the ramblings of his friends anymore, he realised, and idly wondered if this kitchen was soundproof for the sake of both the guests and the kitchen workers. He sighed and broke open a bag of crisps that he was sure he’d eat all of himself by the time the night was through, and was just picking up his extremely healthy meal to go back to the table when the double doors opened again.

     Phil appeared. His t-shirt today was blue and featured a deer holding a gun while riding a tiger; Dan had been far too mortified at the pool to take note of it. The shirt was very… expressive, and Dan blamed that for being the reason he could not move. God was obviously cutting him slack for shoving him in the pool earlier today, as the surprise of seeing Phil yet again didn’t cause him to drop his dish or crisps bag.

     “Making dinner?” Phil said, gesturing around himself in reference to the kitchen.

     “Yup,” Dan confirmed. “If a sandwich with peanut butter and raspberry jelly and a side of crisps can be considered 'dinner.'”

     Phil laughed. “I should’ve paid more attention to my mum with making meals at home.”

     “Too late now.” Dan pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, unsure what more there was to say. Had a great time Friday? It was totally ace? I’ll sing Britney with you any time? There’s a definite nope.

     “Did you get home okay?” Phil asked, breaking the second of weird silence that had fallen. Dan was lost, and Phil clarified, “I mean the other night, after the party. Did you get back to Manchester okay?”

     Had Dan told Phil where he lived? Dan rove through the Friday night in hyper-speed, glad that some of his memories had been able to filter through the heavy drenching of alcohol. Yes, he had in fact, for whatever reason told Phil where he lived. And Phil had _remembered_.

     “Yes,” Dan said, roughly shoving this away. “Did you?”

     “York’s about as far as Manchester, maybe more, so I just stayed with the McDonnells.” The McDonnells, the family who’d hosted the party. Dan had been bummed about having to go because their son Charlie was a buddy of his, and they usually hung out during these things but because he was going to be in the States at the time, Charlie hadn’t been able to make it back for it. “They even let me stay in Charlie’s room for the night, which was so cool.”

     “You know Charlie?” What a stupid question; why would he have been invited to the party if not because he was good friends with Charlie? Why would his parents allow him to sleep in their son’s bed if not because they were close? _Idiot_.

     “We’ve been friends for a while, yeah. Erm,” Phil shifted on his feet, his blue eyes jumping to the ceiling, “speaking of. Sorry if I was really weird the other night. Saying we could be like best friends or whatever. I don’t drink all that much.”

     “Oh.” Dan couldn’t believe that he was standing here having this discussion with a plate in one hand and crisps in the other. (He needed a soda too; damn two-handed humans.) All this in the middle of a country club’s kitchen. Tell Dan of just last week that this would be happening and he’d laugh. “It’s totally fine,” he told Phil. “I was shit-faced and didn’t take too much of anything we did all that seriously.” Nothing happened! What’s that even meant to mean? They played Just Dance. It’s not like they—

     “Right.” Phil laughed as if releasing a weird feeling and attempted a smile. “It was fun, though. I had a good time.”

     “Me too,” Dan said a little too quickly. “So much fun. Sorry I had to rush out of there like I did.”

     “No worries,” Phil assured him, then cracked a grin. “The last thing I expected was to see you working at the same place as me not a week later.”

     “Yeah… Sort of coincidental. I realised too late that I’d forgotten to get any kind of contact from you.” Everything he said was a euphemism. Dan hated himself. “Information, I mean. Contact information.”

     “Me too. I guess we didn’t need it,” Phil said. He stuck his hands into his pants pockets.

     “You know—” Dan hesitated, and Phil looked at him. “If you don’t know anyone else working here, you can hang out with me and my friends. It’d be cool with me, if it’s, you know… cool with you.”

     Phil’s shoulders perked up at the offer, a smile appearing on his lips. “Yeah. That’d be great.” Dan nodded once, then began to walk towards Phil to get to the doors behind him. He was pushing against the doors when Phil said, “Dan.” Dan felt something in his midsection, as though his stomach were becoming entwined with his spleen. He stopped and looked at Phil with the prayer that it didn’t show on his face. “See you tomorrow.”

     “Yeah,” Dan said. “See you tomorrow.”


	4. Monday, July 4th – Right Here, Right Now

     Call-time was six a.m. for the club’s general staff most days, and the gang had spent the night (as well as that morning) memorizing schedules and menus. It would be fine.

     Dan really had to stop thinking that; every time he did, something always went horrifyingly wrong.

     Dress code for L.S. men wait-staff was a blue long-sleeve button-down with the douchiest pants available in the known universe: light brown _khakis_. Even the word made Dan cringe. Grin and bear it, as his mother would say. Girls wore the same sort of shirt, but a khaki skirt. All horrible. All mandatory.

     What frustrated Dan was that he hadn’t even seen Phil today and yet he just instinctively knew that the color of the uniform’s shirt would complement his eyes beautifully, whereas for Dan his eyes matched his shirt like a shit stain.

     They choked down a ten-minute breakfast, which was mostly just toast anyhow, and prepared for the day. Guests would be arriving at midday and lunch would be ready by that point for them should they choose to come to the dining hall for it. Leftovers were graciously given to the staff, but the chefs were instructed to never waste by making exceedingly more than necessary. Dan thought this was like an immortal guy telling his friend that he’d give her his cash when he died.

     Dan’s main goal for the day was to stay on two feet and keep his plates in hand. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up on his first day. They’d already messed up thinking that they had to be here so early, when really call-time on this day only had been for ten. Caspar was still annoyed.

     “I’ve still no idea what the hell it is we’re doing out of bed right now,” he complained.

     Chris grinned. “You’re just pissy cuz I had to throw a pillow at your head to wake you.”

     Caspar rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a sullen way. He loathed waking early—i.e. sooner than eleven—and normally Dan did as well, but keeping on a happy face was part of the job description of working with people. Every job he’d ever gotten he’d been fired from for some form of idiocy or another, not really because he couldn’t interact with the customers. Dumb shit like pressing buttons or alarms he shouldn’t, napping on the job. Nothing major and all entirely accidental.

     They passed the time playing catch in Cat and Zoe’s room with an orange they’d snagged from the fridge, and each person who threw it had to ask a question about the club or the menus. Dinner special for tonight? Where do I go to inquire on special events? Around eleven, they knew they’d have to filter out and watch for arriving guests.

     Dan had only just stepped beneath the porch of the main building where ‘country clubbers’ went to check in when through the window he spotted Phil at the desk. He was the phone guy. Receptionist person. Whatever. Phil was speaking with Mr. Fulton, and smiling his friendly smile. Dan was going to turn around and leave, earning confused looks from Caspar and PJ, but two hands grabbed his arms to stop him.

     “Good morning!” Jenna said. She was way too chirpy. Way, way, way too much, always. She looked at the boys next to Dan, her false niceness having improved from yesterday afternoon now that she wasn’t caught off guard. “How is everyone today?”

     “Fantastic,” PJ said.

     “Feel like I’m riding the wind’s back, to be perfectly honest,” Caspar agreed. Dan lowered his head briefly to bite away his grin and snort of laughter.

     “Great.” Jenna clasped her hands together, then smiled at Dan. “I’ve got to find my mother, but good luck today. You’ll do amazing, I know it.” She squeezed Dan’s arm and headed off down the hallway to the left of Phil’s desk. He saw Dan, then, and waved to him, somewhat shyly. Dan nodded at him, trying to keep his smile appropriate. It always seemed to want to tear off of his bloody face around Phil, and he couldn’t stand it.

     “Who is that?” PJ asked Dan.

     “No one,” Dan said. “Come on; we’ve got work to do.”

     Caspar and PJ exchanged a raised-eyebrows-look before following Dan to meet the first arrival. These greetings lasted from noon until right around dinner, and by that point Dan’s face hurt like a bitch from smiling so consistently. His fake smile was very fake, and he just hoped that imagining Evan Peters and Jennifer Lawrence as each new guest had worked in pumping it with at least a touch of sincerity.

     “I’ll tell you, man, if I’ve got to do that every single day I may lose my mind,” Caspar said later, when they were cleaning up post-dinner hour. Fortunately for all involved, no one had dropped a single tray. Dan was most impressed with himself, as he was known for falling from desk chairs and defying gravity up staircases.

     “What? Serving dinners or human interaction?” Chris asked.

     “Both.”

     They all rolled their eyes in a collective expression of amused agreement. First days were usually the worst. Zoe worked in Sephora, but the store had closed down for the summer in order to implement renovations to the store. She’d barely even agreed to come to work at Lava Springs, because her boyfriend Alfie Deyes had to stay home in England for work. He’d insisted, though, saying that he’d be working all summer anyway and this was a chance for her to have an adventure and make cash. He used this line from _Napoleon Dynamite_ to inspire her: Might as well do something while you’re doing nothing. And it was settled. But now she was here, and not used to working in sweltering conditions outdoors. Not the most fun thing in the world. Only good thing was she’d been working with people for years, and knew how to do it better than most. She was just waiting for her chance to maybe do something of her own, like launch a beauty or fashion line. Her nickname had always been Zoella, as her middle name was Elizabeth; she thought it could be a cute brand name.

     Whatever. It was ridiculous. That’s why she was at U of M and not ‘makeup school,’ as her grandparents liked to call it in a way that seemed to scream _clown college_. Dan was trying to become a lawyer and impress his parents, Cat was working to become a nurse even though she detested illness, and even PJ was studying English to maybe become a professor one day. Imagine that, Professor Liguori. No one would even know how to pronounce it. They knew this for sure, since Chris had told the story of his high school teacher Mr. Fetes. The poor guy’s renowned nickname was Fetus, in place of its correct pronunciation of Fates. Tragic.

     Caspar would probably become a model or something (he did like to joke)–honestly, Cas held an interest in swimming. He always had. If he worked at it, Zoe and Chris believed he could really make something of himself in the sport. Dan teased him that he would become a real-life Nagisa Hazuki. Caspar wasn’t too deterred.

     Chris enjoyed acting, and comedy, so stand-up wasn’t off the table. He worked well and often with a friend of his, Tom Ridgewell, and was talented in editing and directing as well. Chris was good at anything, really, if he put his mind to it. Dan had always been jealous of that. But Zoe knew that they would all be okay in whatever they did. They all had their talents and aspirations, and she liked to believe that their lives would fall into a place each of them wanted. Maybe a bit idealistic, but that was Zoe.

     “I’m going to bed,” Caspar announced. “See you all…” He glanced at his phone, which read that it was past midnight. “I guess in like five hours.” He sighed and walked off, and Chris grinned at their friends before catching up beside him.

     Cat yawned widely and glanced over at Dan. “Aren’t you tired?” She waved a hand at his opening mouth. “Never mind. What am I saying? You stay up until like three.”

     “I’m not a machine, Cat; I do require some sleep.”

     “And do you, right now?”

     Dan contemplated. “I _could_ sleep, but this is honestly the best part of the day right here. Quiet, breezy, stars in the sky…” Cat stared at him. “Shut up. Go to your room; look, Zoe’s stumbling ahead like a zombie.” Dan pushed Cat forward gently. “Save her.” She shook her head and struggled to ruffle Dan’s hair—much tall, very Sasquatch—and hurried after Zoe.

     PJ looked over to Dan. “You, sir, are truly a robot. Got to hand it to you, mate. Try to come back to the room before four, alright?” He clapped a hand to Dan’s back and then followed the rest of their group across the lawn.

     Dan pulled at the collar of his shirt. He detested it. “No promises,” he said to PJ’s retreating figure. PJ rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion (Dan could just tell) but didn’t stop. Dan breathed in the late-night-early-morning air with relish. This really was his favorite bit of every day. Not too hot as were the usual summer days here. It was difficult to enjoy in Manchester or London, what with the smoke in the air and cars honking, but Lava Springs was more secluded and made Dan feel as though he were in a countryside. It was quite nice that he could actually see the stars above his head.

     He wandered to the lake and sat on the wooden bench there, enjoying the moonlight’s reflection on the water. He was tired. Of course he was. It had been a long day, and he was sore from carrying so much weight on his untrained arms. But nothing had been dropped. He hadn’t sworn at any guests. A long day, but not a bad one. It seemed to Dan that this was his scale for everything in his life: Not bad, not great, just okay.

     He should go to his room. He’d punched out twenty minutes ago; it wasn’t like he was being paid to stay awake anymore. Dan breathed out and got to his feet. Taking off these hideous loafers would be a brilliant start to a deep self-cleansing shower. He began the trek back to the rooms and his friends.

     Less than eight weeks of this wouldn’t be the worst thing in Dan’s life, relatively speaking. They could even be pretty good weeks, if he let them be. He should try that.


	5. Thursday, July 7th – We’re All in This Together

     It wasn’t too difficult for the gang to fall into a natural swing at the club. By only day four, the complaining of early mornings (via Caspar) had slowed to a minimum, and Dan had fallen in love with the moonlit lake view that he received each night. It was peaceful, and though it had only just started he was beginning to think that he’d been right: this summer would be special.

     You know, apart from the whole Jenna Marbles situation.

     Dan had the rare second to spare in his day, the time between brunch and dinner (as a country club was far too proper to have a simple peasant _lunch_ time) of 2:30 in the afternoon. He usually spent this time studying or trying to unwind beside the pool—as had quickly become his habit and he so loved his habits—but Jenna had caught on to this just as quickly, and seemed determined to be wherever Dan was the vast majority of the time. He sometimes feared that when he pulled back his and PJ’s shower curtain Jenna would be stood there in shower sandals and a hair net. He’d had some nightmares, admittedly, a rude segue and awakening from those much more pleasant ones he’d had featuring Evan Peters and waffles.

     Today Jenna wore a bikini (the color Dan believed Zoe would refer to as a vibrant amethyst) and heels, if you can believe it, with sunglasses which covered half her face. Clearly meant to be chic, and yet Dan didn’t see it.

     “I haven’t seen you in forever!” Jenna exclaimed, stood before Dan with her hands on her bare hips. She wasn’t bad looking, she really wasn’t, but Dan just did not see her that way. With her blond and purple-tipped hair, she was like a—a very eccentric second cousin, and even imagining anything _in that way_ was enough to make Dan squirm beyond belief. Unfortunately for him, Jenna didn’t see things as Dan did.

     “You saw me on Tuesday,” Dan reminded her. His adventures of Sherlock Holmes novelization resting on his lap, he looked up at Jenna through his sunglasses. (Chris’, actually, but nuance.) “When you ordered room service… to your private room?” Yes. That happened.

     “Too long,” Jenna insisted. “We haven’t really talked, you know?” She went to sit down, and Dan wanted to evaporate.

     “Yeah, erm…” He scrambled to stand up. “I haven’t got much to say, you know, what with university and everything; so much going on—and yet nothing at all.” Dan was floundering. She should not be this intimidating.

     By some grace of God, Cat must have sensed his distress, for she came over from the life-guard station, clad in her red one-piece, and smiled at Dan and Jenna.

     “How’s it going?” she asked. Good thing she’d been trained in CPR because before this summer let out, Dan would most likely need resuscitation.

     “Fantastic,” said Jenna, bitterness escaping in her tone. She flipped her hair over one shoulder, flashed a cheeky smile Dan’s way, and plodded off. Dan released a sigh of immense relief, shoulders un-tensing. (As much as they ever did.)

     “Cat, honestly I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

     “Crash and burn.” She smiled at him, then glanced in the direction Jenna had gone. “Sorry the one person interested in you is her.”

     “Thanks. I think.” Dan shook his head. “I’m going to go before she gets any more ideas. Thanks again.” Dan grabbed the book from his chair and headed for the main hall. He’d been avoiding it for the sake of not coming across Phil in another awkward encounter, but he wanted to see Chris, who he knew for a fact was lifting in the gym there on the break.

     So Dan balled up and walked inside. And Phil wasn’t even at the desk. Dan scoffed at himself for being such an anxious spoon and straightened his shoulders. There was nothing to be afraid of, even if Phil had been there.

     And of course, Dan had again spoken too bloody soon.

     “Dan!” Phil said, from where Dan had turned round the corner near the bathrooms.

     Phil hadn’t taken Dan up on his offer of ‘hanging’ because he’d had too much to do the past few nights, but Dan hadn’t been able to feel much regret. Not seeing Phil was just easier, it seemed, even though it was ridiculous and made Dan’s head hurt to put so much effort into it.

     “Phil! Hey!” he replied, turning around to see a smiling Phil. He always had the warmest smile, as though everyone were his best friend. Dan winced in his head, the reminder of that past Friday night a rap at the back door he did not welcome or wish to open. “How’s it going?”

     “Fine. I just feel bad that I haven’t had the time to meet your friends,” Phil said, walking back to his desk. Dan was forced to follow. “I see them ’round, and whenever I’m about to say hi, I’m called away by some thing or another, or vice versa.”

     “Oh, it’s alright. They aren’t that much fun anyway.” Brilliant, Dan really. “How’s your work here? Hard?”

     “It’s okay. Giving directions, answering the phone a lot, giving directions over the phone.” Dan smiled at Phil’s rhetoric, unable to help himself. Phil had the sort of speaking voice that someone could listen to for hours and never tire of. “Some of the callers are kind of mean sometimes, but mostly alright.”

     “Well, that’s good. I haven’t severely damaged anything in the kitchen, or dropped plates of food either, so I’d say I’m succeeding.”

     “Our first summer here is going fairly well then,” Phil said, his smile disarming and sweet, as it always was. _Our summer_. There was absolutely no negative side to him, and Dan realised what a colossal twat he had been this week. Phil had done nothing wrong, save being a kind person to a guy that clearly didn’t deserve it.

     “Yeah.” Dan made a decision. He could keep acting like a prick, or he could be nice for once in his damn life. “Me and my group are having dinner tonight, like actual food, not sandwiches. I’m sure that’s what’s actually served to deter you these past nights.” Phil opened his mouth to disagree, but Dan just grinned. This time, he meant what he was saying in inviting Phil along. “But it’s fine. I think tonight’s menu is pizza from that shop ’round the corner, so feel free to join us at my room for a good time.” Just let it happen.

     “That sounds great! I’d love to eat something other than Ramen and jam.” Phil laughed, shaking his head. “I did not mean those two together. Pizza would be awesome. Thanks.”

     “No problem at all. You can meet my friends then, and I’m sure you’ll get along great. I’m actually on the way to meet one of them right now…”

     “Right! I stopped you in the middle of a hallway!” Phil sat behind his desk and dutifully put pen in hand. “See you later, then.”

     “See you.” Dan walked back the way he’d been headed before, past the bathrooms, and felt better than he had since the first night at Lava Springs.

***

     PJ and Chris had taken pizza duty, taking a couple bills (American cash is odd) from everyone to split the cost. Dan, Cat, Zoe, and Caspar passed the time waiting for their return by watching reruns of _The Great British Bake Off_ , which Dan had to admit was his all-time favorite competition program. It was honestly so good that his friends couldn’t even make fun of him for it.

     “Paul so intensely believes his pork pie is the best,” Caspar said, contemplative. “He gets so _into_ it.”

     “What, Caspar, d’you think you make a better pork pie?” Dan asked him sarcastically.

     “I can’t say I’ve ever attempted it,” Caspar reflected, “so that’d be a no.”

     “Then can I watch in peace?”

     “Dan, this is series two; you’ve seen it like five times alrea—”

     “Both of you need to stop,” interrupted Cat. A knock came at the room door, then, and Dan clambered to his feet.

     “About bloody time,” he said. “They’ve been gone for—” But when he opened the door, it wasn’t PJ or Chris. “Phil,” he observed bluntly. Astute, as always.

     “Hi. I forgot to ask you for a time earlier.” Phil was an inch shorter than Dan—mostly everyone was shorter by some amount—but it was less noticeable with Phil. He seemed taller than he was, which was already pretty tall, but he held himself in a way that made him somehow bigger. Dan on the other hand preferred to hunch his shoulders and keep himself hidden. “So I just sort of thought eight would be okay, after the dinner hour.”

     “I didn’t give you a time?” Of course he hadn’t. Slack ass. “I’m glad you worked it out then. We’re just waiting for the pizza.” Dan motioned for Phil to enter the room, then tore his eyes away to look at his friends. “Guys, this is Phil Lester.” Phil waved at them, and they waved back. (Except Caspar, who sent a finger-gun with a half-glance and then returned to the program.) “Girl to the left is Zoe, on the right’s Caspar, and she’s Cat.”

     “Nice to meet you all,” Phil said, smiling at them. If he was at all nervous, he didn’t show it. How did he manage to do that?

     “How do you and Dan know each other?” Cat inquired, looking between them.

     Dan sat himself down on his bed while Phil opted for the chair beside Caspar, whom of which for whatever reason was crouched on the floor. Dan pressed his hands to his skinny-jeaned thighs and decided to be honest: “We met the other night at Charlie’s, you know, for that party none of you wanted to attend?”

     “I couldn’t,” Zoe said in her defense. “You know I was with Alfie. Good too, considering we’re now in another country…”

     “And you know how I hate doing things I don’t want to do,” Caspar added.

     Dan rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s when we met.”

     “And Dan struck up a conversation?” Cat asked, her voice playfully amused. They all knew Dan was the last person to introduce himself to anyone.

     “Actually, we were made to sing a duet,” Phil told her. He sounded just the right amount of awkward about it, but not necessarily embarrassed or uncomfortable recalling the event. Dan realised then he should have lied. He hadn’t told his friends about the party explicitly because of the karaoke debacle, and now—

     “Shut up!” Cat said loudly, sitting up and turning to Phil. “Dan went on stage?” She swung her head to stare at him. “I haven’t seen you perform since you were, like, 14! What did you sing?”

     “It was Toxic,” Phil said, biting his lip. Did Phil have an inability to fib? Maybe it came with being a ball of literal sunshine but Dan was glad he didn’t have to deal with that problem. Actually, another reason why Dan was a fail: he lied far too much. He was known to descend on occasion into a spiral of lies, as he and his mother called it.

     “And I wasn’t there to record this?” Caspar said, his mouth wide open in a disbelieving grin.

     “Your loss!” Dan said. “It’s over, let’s forget it ever happened.” He avoided Phil’s eyes. “We just got to talking after that; you know, mutual mortification.”

    “Obviously,” Caspar said. Dan wished he could smack that shit-eating grin off his face.

    “Pizza!” With this announcement, PJ pushed the door open and entered, keeping it open for Chris who came in behind him with the box in his arms. “You’re all welcome, peasants.” Spotting Phil, PJ paused. “Who do we have here?”

     “This is Phil,” Zoe told him and Chris.

     “He and Dan sang a Britney song together,” Caspar tacked on quite helpfully.

     “Fuck all of you, to be honest,” said Dan. “We were pulled onstage by some douche in a tight t-shirt; what were we supposed to do?”

     “Take a joke, mate,” Caspar said, his eyebrows raised at Dan’s unfittingly harsh tone. He grabbed a slice of pizza and held the box propped up so that Cat could as well. “We’re just playing around.”

     Dan bit the inside of his cheek, angry at himself for getting so upset. It wasn’t a big deal. Why did he have to act like it was and overreact to everything? “Yeah, right. I know.”

     “Eat. You’re not you when you’re hungry,” PJ told him with a pat to the back.

     PJ’s grin and the steam of the sauce and cheese prompted Dan to agree. PJ then looked to Phil and held it up. “Don’t be shy, man. More than enough.” Phil had been quiet the past few minutes, but did as PJ said.

     “So did Dan get wasted at the party?”

     “Caspar!”

***

     The group dispersed around eleven, which was a considerably late night kept in mind that they all had to be awake by five. This was difficult to remembered in the midst of a good time, however, so the girls, plus Chris and Caspar, were late going back to their own rooms in the staff house. Not too far, only down the hall, which made it feel sort of like a co-ed dormitory implemented in some universities. As if they wanted to think about uni right now.

     PJ hopped in the shower minutes before everyone left, so Dan was left to clean up. Phil was stood wiping off the tables and generally attempting to help Dan in this endeavor; Dan saw him trying to clean with paper towels and laughed.

     “Phil, you can go back to your room,” he said to him. Phil paused at his voice and looked up. “I’m sure your room-mate won’t appreciate you coming back so late.”

     “I don’t have a room-mate, actually. I was late in coming,” Phil explained, “so I just got one of the leftover rooms that had nobody in it.”

     “Are you kidding me?” Dan rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and dropped a stack of used empty cups into the trash beside the desk. He didn’t mind sharing with PJ, but having his own space didn’t sound half bad, especially since after the age of 12 he’d gotten his own room and was therefore used to it. What a blessed thing that had been, not having to share with his bitchy younger brother anymore.

     Phil was beside the garbage, and had to reach around Dan to throw away the paper towels he had used to wipe the desk off. Dan rocked back on his right foot to create some space between them, and hoped that it wasn’t as awkward looking as it had felt. “Well, I suppose that’s just my luck, isn’t it?” he said. “Anyway, there’s not much to do here. It’s not even very late. I might go out.”

     “Where could you possibly go at past eleven?” Phil asked, eyes wide.

     Dan thought for what most likely amounted to less than a second about whether or not he should tell Phil about the lake bench. It was his favorite place at Lava Springs, and no one else in his group had even been to it with him during the night just because he wanted it for himself. Despite this, it didn’t take him long at all to respond, “I can show you.”

     Dan called half-heartedly to PJ in the bathroom that he was going to walk around for a bit on the property and then Phil followed him outside to walk the football-field length to the lake and its single bench. When Dan reached it, he stopped walking and extended his arms to showcase it in its entirety, his eyes having adjusted to the dark.

     “This is the Mourey Lake,” he told Phil. “Unfortunately named, granted, but observe: a bench, moonlight, stars in the sky.”

     “It’s beautiful,” said Phil, turning in an appreciative circle to take in the whole view. Dan smiled, and didn’t even try to hide it when Phil’s eyes came back to land on him with a smile of his own.

     “Yeah, it is,” Dan said. He made himself look away from Phil, going to stand before the water. The moon glistened over top it, as it had every other night he’d been there. Dan was a definite night owl, but staying at Lava Springs gave the term a whole new meaning. If he could, he’d stay at the lake throughout the night just to watch the sun rise and replace the moon in the water’s reflection.

     “I can’t believe no one else is here to see this,” Phil said, his voice quiet in the dark of the night.

     “Beats me, honestly.” Dan threw up his arms. “You asked where I’d go… and this is it.”

     “Thank you.”

     Dan looked over at Phil in surprise. They were stood beside one another, and Dan realised that, as he did with most people, he had to look a little bit down to see into Phil’s eyes. They shone the moon’s light just like the water did.

     “Why’re you thanking me?” he asked him.

     “For showing me this special part of your day,” Phil said. “I might’ve never seen it if you hadn’t decided I was worthy.”

     Dan laughed at that, and Phil began to laugh as well, the laugh where his tongue poked out of his mouth. Dan didn’t want to look away once his gaze caught sight of the smile accompanying it but, infuriatingly, at the same time the other side of his brain wanted to look away. It was making it so hard to keep this distance between them. He’d only known Phil for a week. He shouldn’t want to spill his life story to him, and share these things with him. He didn’t do that with anyone in his life, not even people he’d known for years.

     “You’re definitely worthy. Possibly the most _worthy_ person I know,” Dan said. Phil grinned like a kid, and Dan again hated the contradictory parts of himself. He shouldn’t have to monitor the words he chose to say, or the expression on his face.

     “Dan…” Phil’s face scrunched up a little, and Dan felt his head pound, like his throbbing heart had implanted itself inside his brain. “I know I told you that asking to be your best friend was a tipsy joke… but _could_ we be friends?”

     No one had ever asked Dan to be his friend before. That’s not how friends were made, in his experience. Usually just a shared sense of humor or class, the kid you didn’t hate sitting next to becoming something more than tolerable. But here was Phil, asking Dan to accept him as a friend under the moonlight beside a lake at a country club, in the most genuine tone Dan had ever heard.

     “Yeah,” he said. “We could be friends. And maybe, if you’re lucky, best friends could be around the corner.” Phil laughed and nodded, then shivered slightly. “You’re cold,” Dan observed. He put a hand to Phil’s shoulder and pulled him gently toward the staff house. “Let’s go back. It’s late, anyway.”

     “It’s Florida in the summer. I’m just always cold,” Phil said. “Or ill. Both.”

     “And I’m always hot,” Dan said, then cringe-laughed.

     “One could even say that you’re on fire,” Phil agreed, not paying any attention to Dan’s accidental euphemism.

     Dan laughed harder, and kept this up for a second more until he waved a hand and said, “No, no. I am definitely _not_ on fire.”

     “Good name for a rap artist,” Phil said. “Dan Is Not On Fire.”

     “And what about you?” Dan inquired, grinning much too widely.

     Phil was blank. “What about me?”

     “What’s your rapper name?” Dan clarified, amused at Phil’s confusion.

     “Oh!” Phil thought, then said, “Well, I’m cold all the time. How about… Snow… Dude?”

     “Way too easy,” Dan declined. Grinning, he tried to think of something that could capture who Phil was. Only one word came to mind, and it was the one he’d used the first night they had met. “You are quite the Britney impersonator, I’ve found, so how about Amazing Phil? That’s better.”

     “Amazing Phil and Dan Is Not On Fire,” Phil recited, listening to the sound of them in the quiet air. He looked over at Dan with a victorious grin. “I sound sort of like a magician but I reckon we have our winners. The rap duo of the century. Also known worldwide as D-Hizzle and P-Lizzle.”

     “Oh, God, stop; no, I will definitely have a paralyzing cringe-attack,” Dan said, trying very hard to not laugh so loudly that he would wake the other staff members. “We are both undoubtedly, detrimentally sleep deprived.”

     Phil nodded, laughter still escaping, and walked through the front door Dan opened for him. “I think you’re right.” His room happened to be one of the first, so he came to a halt outside his door and turned to Dan. “Thanks, D-Hizzle. It’s been real.”

     “I will fight you,” Dan said, trying and epically failing to sound serious. He put his fingers to his forehead and ducked his head to hide his smile (which didn’t work all that well). “Good night, Phil.” Phil held up his hand in a wave as Dan walked off to the staircase. “Jesus, it’s like we live in a frat house.”

     “But better!” Phil called down the hall, then winced at the sound of his voice reverberating off the walls. “Oops. Sorry,” he whispered.

     Dan was lucky he didn’t fall back down the stairs laughing.


	6. Friday, July 22nd – You Are the Music in Me

     Dan and Phil took off like a snowball after that night. Dan had been mostly kidding when he’d told Phil they could maybe be best friends, but the more time Dan spent with him, the more he regretted ever having avoided him in the first place. It felt like fate—something Dan had never held in high regard—that Phil’s family had always had a house in Florida, and spent parts of the year there. Phil finding this job at Lava Springs this summer, the same as Dan, couldn’t have been more perfectly timed, and thinking about it sometimes made Dan’s head ache. Not in pain, but in happiness. He was genuinely _happy_. Phil cajoled a real smile out of him with hardly any coaxing at all, and the fact that Dan could make Phil smile too? Incredible. Show-stopping.

     Not to mention that it had only been two weeks since that Thursday, and Phil had hit it off with not only Dan but his friends as well. It was miraculous. (Not that they weren’t all good and welcoming people, of course, or that their liking Phil was strange. What would’ve been weird was if they hadn’t taken to him. Who _didn’t_?)

     Breakfast on Friday morning was prepared by Cat and Phil, a valiant attempt on both their parts; when they brought the trays out to the group (all had gathered at 5:45 in the morning no less, as guest breakfast was served starting at precisely 6:30), Dan, Zoe, Caspar, PJ, and Chris made sure to ooh and aah the options.

     “I assume Cat showed you how to make American-style pancakes, Phil?” Dan said, as Phil (dropping into the chair beside Dan) set Dan’s plate and a plate for himself on the table.

     “She _tried_ ,” Phil laughed.

     “He’s a quick study, honestly,” Cat assured everyone, pouring herself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher.

     Phil needed to stop laughing if he ever wanted to eat, but since the others were having the same problem he thought it was alright. “Yeah, right. I flipped one from the pan onto the ground! And I nearly squirted juice from the oranges in my eye as well!”

     “Of course you did.” Dan had learned in only a few days that Phil was very clumsy, possibly even more than Dan himself. Quite a feat considering Dan was a literal wobbly-legged newborn giraffe.

     “Shut up, Dan,” Chris said with a laugh. “You can’t cook for your life let alone squeeze an orange.”

     “Have we begun berating Dan for his questionable eating choices?” PJ asked excitedly, his fork in mid-air.

     “You’re all traitorous assholes,” Dan announced.

     Cat rolled her eyes and whacked her knife against her glass once. “Would you all just eat before it gets too cold?” she demanded.

     “Yes, Mother,” Caspar said hastily, shoving a bit of syrupy pancake into his mouth.

     “Honestly,” PJ said. “Kids these days.”

     When all had dined, all had to dash as breakfast for the guests would begin in only a few minutes and toothpaste was sorely needed among Dan and co. Phil waved to the gang and left the staff house for the main. Serving waffles and pancakes. Dan’s favorite pastime. He wondered if Phil’s day were shaping up to be any better.

     As usual, Jenna ordered one strawberry-mango (Why?) smoothie for breakfast with the smallest bowl of plain oatmeal Dan could possibly imagine, but instead of the usual Mourey-family server a.k.a. Caspar, Dan was given her table. He repeated his mantra: Grin and bear it.

     He carried the tray containing Mr. and Mrs. Mourey’s plus Tyler’s and Jenna’s breakfast plates out through the door leading into the guest dining room, praying that he wouldn’t trip on the way to the table belonging to Lava Springs’ owners.

     “Good morning!” Dan said with enthusiasm just barely creeping from between his tightly clenched teeth. It could not be a smile, no way in hell. Far more likely a grimace resembling that of Bonnie the Bunny à la Five Nights at Freddy’s.

     “Hi, Dan!” Jenna said, her usual perky self. “I requested you today.” She said this as though it were a secret her family ought not to know, even though they were all seated within two feet of her on all sides.

     “Wow, that’s…” Dan gave out the plates slowly. Nothing new when speaking to this particular Mourey, he had no idea how to reply. He went with, “That’s nice of you, Jenna. Thanks.” He handed her the smoothie and oatmeal, which she somehow managed to turn flirtatious. Dan wanted to scream. “I’ll be back in a few—”

     “Dan, why don’t you stay a minute?” Jenna’s mom asked.

     “I’m sorry, Mrs. Mourey, I—”

     “Deb, please, dear, and I insist you take a break.” Dan didn’t know what to say to that. He’d only begun working a few minutes ago.

     So he just sat beside Jenna, who had practically shoved her brother aside to make room for Dan at her side. If Tyler was annoyed, only the flat set of his lips showed it. He was dressed well even though it was only half past six a.m., with a blue button-down, his hair spiked up in a quiff of platinum blond and black-rim glasses in place. He had immense confidence, and was one of the few people Dan knew who had actually come out. Of the closet. As gay. Tyler knew who he was and had never been afraid to show it, utterly uncaring of what people thought. Dan had to admit that he was envious of his courage.

     “Jennifer tells us that you’re studying law, as well as music,” Mr. Mourey (Ken) said to Dan. Dan looked over at him more quickly than what could be considered appropriate conversational response-time.

     “Erm,” Dan articulated, “well, I am studying law, and I was in theatre as a kid. And I taught myself to play the piano as well… way back when.”

     “And you sing!” Jenna added, in a prodding sort of way.

     “I—Sometimes. In the shower I might sing, you know… random stuff.” This was going splendidly. “Not on a stage or anything like that, I mean.” Dan wanted to leave so badly. So, so badly. All three pairs of Mourey eyes were on him, however, and he had no escape route whatsoever.

     “Dan, we need you in the kitchen, mate,” Chris said, appearing out of nowhere like Jesus himself. Dan jumped to his feet and nodded, grabbing Chris by the arm.

     “Of course. It was great talking with you all.” Dan forced a smile onto his face and dragged Chris back to the kitchen. “They interviewed me for an arranged marriage to Jenna, Chris, I’m fucked.”

     Chris stared at Dan, then shook his head. “Don’t know why you sat at the table, then.” He took a tray handed off from a startled PJ and turned right out the door once more, leaving Dan sputtering.

     “I didn’t willingly sit at her table! There was no _consent_!” Dan stopped and looked around at the kitchen workers all now watching him. “Oh, shit off,” he muttered, yanking a tray labeled for table five away from PJ.

     “ _I_ need a tray, you know!” he shouted after Dan.

***

     As to be expected, everyone found Dan’s breakfast-time story quite funny when he explained it during lunch break, but he earned a sympathetic pat on the back from the girls at least.

     “Not to mention I was cornered when they left,” Dan added. “Jenna’s asked me to _golf_ with her family later today.”

     Caspar snorted, nearly choking on the water he’d been drinking. He set the bottle down. “Okay, wow. That girl is insane.”

     “Has she seen you golf?” Zoe asked. “It’s not the prettiest thing in the world.”

     “Thank you so much for the advice, guys, really.” Dan glared up at the ceiling from his bed, on which he was stretched out. “Where are my real friends when I need them?”

     “It’s just golf,” Cat said to him. “If you really can’t get out of it just try to make the best of it.”

     Dan scoffed. “Easy for you to say! You don’t have Jenna up your ass all day every day like some sort of deranged moth.”

     “And you really can’t just… say no?” Phil asked. He was at the end of Dan’s bed, knees pulled up against his chest like a kid.

     “Trust me, Phil, alright, if you knew Jenna like I do, you’d know that she cannot be derailed.” Dan sighed. “I just need to get through this summer.”

     “And if she makes a move?” Chris asked mockingly.

     “Then I rebuff her in the most polite way possible,” Dan said, the thought of Jenna trying anything more than flirting a frightful thought.

     “Fantastic.” PJ slapped his hands to his legs and stood up from his place at the room’s desk. “Back to work it is. Glad we sacrificed our lunch for you, Dan.”

     “Fuck off.”

     The best part about being forced to golf with the Moureys was that Dan had to dress for the occasion: his usual khaki pants, plus a hideous polo shirt he’d had to swipe off of PJ. That on top of roasting beneath the Florida sun at 4:30 was enough to make Dan want to die.

     Jenna wore a short skirt. Dan sarcastically wondered why that was.

     “We got interrupted this morning, Dan,” Deb Mourey said a little ways into the golf excursion. “So tell us—how is law school?”

     “It’s… you know, it’s alright, I guess. A contract law book is a bit like reading French,” he admitted, “but once you’ve moved past that it’s totally fine.”

     “And you don’t work so much in music anymore?” Ken Mourey asked.

     “Yeah, I’ve been pretty swamped with everything else, if you know what I mean; what with all my tests and all the reading we’re made to do.”

     “Well, if you enjoy what you’re doing that’s good,” Tyler spoke up, for the first time since Dan had even been around him this summer. “I could never be a lawyer.”

     “Why not?” Dan inquired.

     Tyler grinned a little, waving a hand. “I’m way too intense for anything like that. I’d get too emotional or whatever and get kicked out of the courtroom.” Dan smiled, genuinely. Tyler wasn’t half as bad as his sister.

     “I don’t know if I’d be an attorney in that way,” Dan agreed. “A courtroom I think would be too much for me as well. Speaking in front of people isn’t my forte.”

     “Maybe I could be a lawyer,” Jenna butt in, “like Elle.”

     “Well, I don’t think a character from _Legally Blond_ can do the real thing justice,” Dan said. Tyler winced, making it clear that Dan shouldn’t have said that.

     “Because you knew what I was referring to, I’ll choose to ignore that,” Jenna said, flipping her hair over one shoulder. Her turn was up, and she smashed the ball so hard into the distance with her club that it went out of sight. She smiled, not surprised, and high-fived her dad.

     What an exceptionally fun day.

     Getting back to the main property, Tyler even said as much, making it sound like somewhat of an apology. This guy was full of surprises, even in a bright blue polo shirt and matching shoes.

     “You know, it honestly could’ve been worse,” Dan said. “You’re not much like Jenna.” Dan paused. “Was that rude? I’m pretty sure that was rude.”

     Tyler laughed. “No, it’s fine, honestly, I get it. My sister can be a bit much sometimes. She’s just used to getting what she wants. She isn’t so bad, really.”

     “I know that,” Dan said quickly. “It’s just hard, you know, since she’s… all over me. And I…”

     “You’re not into her?”

     “How can you tell?” Dan asked sarcastically, but not in any unkind way.

     “Well, she did the infamous _bend and snap_ ,” Tyler said, “and you didn’t seem very interested.”

     “Right. I thought that’s what that was…” _Gay or European._ Dan blanched. “I just don’t see her that way. She’s like a sister or cousin; some relative. Not a girlfriend, at all.”

     “She’ll lose interest, I think, eventually,” Tyler assured him. “She probably wouldn’t be so insistent if you had a girlfriend.” Tyler realised he actually had no idea if Dan did or not. “You don’t, right?”

     “No, I don’t.”

     “Boyfriend?”

     “Definitely not,” Dan said, too fast. Saying that in that way to a gay guy could be offensive, right? Way to go, Dan. Not to mention when he’d said no he felt the sharpest of pains in his stomach. “I haven’t dated anyone since I was, like, 13,” he told Tyler in the hopes that maybe it would soften his previous response.

     “I don’t date much either,” Tyler said, apparently oblivious (or graciously ignorant) to Dan’s little blunder. “Haven’t met the right person. But there are definitely a few good ones here this summer, so we’ll see.” He smiled at Dan (but not in a flirty way, Dan took note) and shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you around. Maybe you’ll meet someone here too.”

     Dan sighed as Tyler walked off. Yeah. Maybe. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to.  


***

     Dinner hour came and went and before Dan knew it, it was nine o’clock. He was off-duty for the day, officially. He swiped his card to punch out and headed to his room, feeling particularly tired but excited to change into his pyjamas. (Nothing fancy. Just sweats and a black t-shirt with an eclipse on it, of which he’d had since roughly 2009 ha ha.) (Also, should he be embarrassed that he was excited to put on pyjamas?)

     Zoe and Cat had plans that night to take a late swim at the pool; Chris and Caspar opted to watch a couple films in their room; and PJ was going to be back in his and Dan’s, as he was dead tired and had no want to do anything except sleep. That left Dan on his own, and so he and Phil had made plans to keep up their fetus nightly tradition of going to the lake to pass the time.

     He grabbed his hoodie on his way out the door (the horns atop the hood itself really added a crucial layer to his aesthetic), as well as Phil’s, as he’d left his Adventure Time sweatshirt in Dan’s the night before and would most likely need it tonight by the water.

     Walking up, he saw that Phil was already there on the bench, and he sat beside him. Phil sent an easy smile his way, not looking in the least surprised to see that the person who’d come was Dan, and his smile widened when he saw his sweatshirt.

     “Thanks!” he said, balling it happily in his lap.

     “Keep track of your shit, mate,” Dan replied, his face scrunched into an expression of annoyance.

     “My bad,” said Phil with sarcasm and a laugh. “How was your day, then?”

     “Not too awful. I mean, aside from the whole golf thing with Jenna I’d say it was alright. You know her brother Tyler?” Phil made a motion to signal that he did, sort of. “Yeah, well, he isn’t so bad as I thought. Pretty cool, actually, if I’m being honest.”

     “That’s good then.”

     “Yeah. And I’m already sore from trying to golf as if I knew what I was doing.” Dan closed his eyes. “Regrets collect like old friends…”

     “Don’t worry about it,” Phil told him. “At least it’s over for the day.”

     “And how was yours?”

     “Pretty good. One mum came in with her little girl and she was so adorable I died. I’m a ghost, currently.” Dan laughed, smiling at Phil’s hand gesticulations and exaggerations. “I swear, Dan, she was so cute!” He tilted his head. “I wonder what’s more high-maintenance: a child or a dog.”

     “Both require training,” Dan thought aloud, “but kids eventually go on their own. Dogs you’ve got to open the door at least. And if a kid has to throw up _sometimes_ they make it to the trash bin or toilet if you’re lucky, while a dog just… lets loose.”

     “So it’s balanced?”

     Dan laughed. “Sure. If a doggie wedding will fulfill you more than that for your daughter or son.”

     Phil began to laugh and said, “I can’t make up my mind. Maybe I’ll just get another hamster and call it quits.”

     “You’re not telling me that you used to have a hamster for a pet.” Phil raised his eyebrows. Dan grinned. “So did I!”

     Phil turned his body to better face Dan, then, his eyes alight. “No way! Mine was quite something; she was called Phoebe and had, like, seven children.”

     Impressed at Phil’s hamster’s evident superiority, Dan almost didn’t want to say his hamster’s greatest accomplishment: “Mine was Suki and… she ran away.”

     Phil’s mouth dropped open, and he had to cover it in order to keep his laugh from bursting out of it. “Seriously? Your hamster _ran away_?”

     “Hey, I couldn’t tell you why. She had a good life with me. I had like no friends back then anyway, alright; it wasn’t necessarily a surprise.” Dan stopped talking and saw that Phil’s teasing smile had become more of a frown. “What?”

     “That’s not the first time you’ve said you had no friends when you were younger.”

     “Well, I mean—I had a couple good ones, of course.” Dan didn’t know what to say. His sharpest memories of his childhood and horrendously-named ‘tween’ years (more suited to mean _between utter depression and tragic hair choices_ ) were of walking home and having literal rocks thrown at him because he chose to wear black skinny jeans. He was the loser theatre kid, and those were the days he had to tell himself that he wouldn’t be in forever. Things would change, and more likely get better than worse. Sometimes—and these times varied from before sleep to the 360 of him stood at a party at which he was surrounded by people and still felt alone and out of place—it was at these times Dan found himself wondering how the hell he’d made it out alive. (Not to mention without serious therapy.)

     “I wasn’t too popular either,” Phil admitted. “I had the worst haircut you’ve ever seen, and of course right before the big leagues I dyed it what I thought to be a blond. It was yellow, and it then turned the orange of a highlighter. Mistake.”

     “Wow.”

     “Yep. Wasn’t exactly swarmed by friends. But then I turned 16, quit going to my childhood haircut… person… and got taller and skinnier. Things got better.”

     “Four-year difference and we sound pretty much the same,” Dan noted.

     “Two emo kids with a penchant for Muse and MCR.” Phil nodded. “Twins.”

     “Not to mention your obsession with Buffy.”

     “Sarah Michelle Gellar was and is to this day the only woman in my life. Apart from my mum.” Phil’s face cracked into a grin. That goddam tongue-smile would be the actual death of Dan Howell.

     Shaking it off, Dan laughed along with him. The sun was slipping below the horizon, and their laughter quieted as Dan sighed. “I sort of miss Manchester, if you can believe it.”

     As usual, Phil took no notice of the abrupt subject change. “Do you?”

     “Yeah. I know we haven’t been here very long but… They took down the Manchester Eye a couple years back. Have you been?”

     Phil thought for a moment, his face screwed up (in the cutest way) as he did. “Maybe once, but it was way too long ago for me to properly remember.”

     “I went right before it was shut down, as a last memory.” Dan frowned out at the water, the moon glistening on its surface. “I was alone.”

     “I wish we’d have met before that,” Phil said, nudging Dan’s shoulder with his. “I could’ve gone with you.”

     “Yeah, maybe.” Dan looked over at Phil; when he felt Dan’s eyes he returned the gaze. “Phil, I actually… I think you’re actually my best friend.”

     Phil grinned. “Am I?”

     “I reckon. Must be the reason I’m here with you and no one else.” _And why I wouldn’t_ want _to be here with anyone else but you, either._

     “I better not be your _last_ choice, Daniel.”

     “Eh. You’re not the worst company.”

     “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

     Dan looked at Phil, whose serious tone gave way to laughter in less than half a second at Dan’s glance. Dan smiled, shaking his head. “You are the biggest spork.”

     “Then I am the most essential of tools!” Phil proclaimed, a righteous fist in the air.

     “You certainly are.”


	7. Friday, August 5th – Stick to the Status Quo

     Another couple of weeks came and went, and it was somehow already August. It was hard to believe that Dan had made it through the summer thus far without any serious injuries or meltdowns, really quite incredible. The sunshine helped, he thought, rather than having to endure the cloudy skies of Manchester, and having Phil to make him smile every day wasn’t the worst thing either.

     He felt slightly bad that he considered Phil to be his closest friend after having known him for only so short a time, or that Phil really was one of the few people that could make him genuinely happy. After all, what about Cat, or PJ? He had a lot of other friends when it came down to it, and it was just very strange to think that despite that, around Phil he never felt like he needed to prove anything or worry that Phil wanted to be somewhere else. The feeling was new and Dan welcomed it whole-heartedly (if with a little uncertainty at times).

     They spent time together talking about anything and everything they could possibly think to say, and sometimes it was random phrases that made absolutely no sense. _Awrf_. These became jokes meant for the two of them, and never failed to coax a laugh from the other if said in front of anyone else, their confusion too funny. It was a strange whirlwind of sleepovers, as Dan gradually began to sleep in Phil’s room on occasion (the extra bed was quite convenient), and bowls of ice cream stolen from the kitchen.

     One in the morning on Friday found them where they usually were, at the lake. They had planned a few days before that tonight was the night: they would stay up to watch the sun rise over the Mourey. The summer was going by fast and if they wanted to do this they just had to do it already before it was gone completely.

     “I’m still surprised that no one comes here except us,” Phil said. They had brought a blanket to stretch out on and look at the stars in their wait, and his head rested atop his arms. Dan was beside him with his hands folded on his stomach.

     “I’m not,” he said. “I can say with certainty that these people didn’t come here to watch the sunrise.”

     “Yeah? Why, then?”

     “To get away from their awful jobs back wherever they came from, _obviously_ , and to be pampered. Though I don’t doubt they have staff in their own homes.”

     “You sure like to make assumptions, Danny-boy,” Phil admonished.

     “It’s not an assumption,” Dan disagreed. “It’s an educated guess. Just look at Jenna and her family.”

     “That’s not the same; they own the club!”

     “Okay, alright, yeah.”

     “And we’re friends with Tyler now,” Phil added. “He’s a perfectly nice fellow.”

     Dan laughed, his body shaking against the hard ground. “God. Okay. I get it. I’ll stop being so cynical. For the moment.”

     “Yeah, I didn’t expect anything permanent.”

      “Jesus, Phil, just lay it on, why don’t you?”

     “Okay, I’ll stop,” Phil promised, laughing with his tongue poked out. He settled back against his arms with a smile. “I’m just saying. Not everyone can be read like a book.”

     “Oh, yeah?”

     “Yeah.”

     Dan shrugged. “You’re wrong, Phil, hate to tell you.”

     “Explain.”

     “Humans are easy. All we’re alive for is sex, food, and sleep. Pretty things and pleasure. Our lives revolve around all those things and when you narrow that down to the context of a specific person, you can tell exactly what they’re like.” Phil stared at Dan, enough to make him laugh, albeit with a bit of apprehension. “What?”

     “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Mr. Holmes. Hell.”

     “Phil, come on. It’s just the truth.”

     “For you, maybe. You don’t think there’s anything more?” Phil demanded. “You don’t think that I, for example, have more to me than—mating and sleep?”

     Dan pushed onto his elbows. “Phil,” he said, trying to force a laugh and lighten this turn of conversation. “Of course not. You aren’t like anyone else.”

     “Well, neither are you, and I don’t think all you’re about is sex and food and sleep either,” Phil told him. “I get it, Dan, that humans suck for the most part. But even you have to admit that we have our moments.”

     Dan thought back to those weeks ago at Charlie’s, where he and Phil had sung to Toxic and talked all night as strangers. Phil with his pretty blue eyes and ability to make Dan laugh no matter how shitty his day had been. Phil who couldn’t function in the mornings without that initial cup of coffee, and who had an obsession with Crunchy Nut cereal. A truly _good_ person, one of the few Dan had ever met in his entire life.

     “Yeah. Humans have their moments,” he said. “I’ll give you that.”

     Phil seemed appeased and relaxed again. “We only have a few more weeks here.”

     “I know.”

     “It’s weird, isn’t it? How fast it went by?”

     “Yeah. Feels like yesterday I got the call from Jenna telling me she all but got me the job,” Dan said.

     Phil looked his way. “Jenna got you this job?”

     “Well, the interview, at least; but knowing her, she got me a guaranteed in,” Dan told him. “That’s how I got everyone else to come too; I just asked Fulton if he needed extra staff.”

     “Jenna really likes you,” Phil said, as if he hadn’t already known the extent to which Jenna’s crush traveled.

     “Whatever. I couldn’t possibly tell you why. It’s not like I ever encouraged her or anything; like one day she just up and decided she wanted me,” Dan said. “We’re all just waiting for the time she realises I’m not worth it.”

     “What if she doesn’t?”

     “Hm?” Dan asked, looking over distractedly.

     “Why aren’t you worth it?” Phil said. “What if she never thinks that?”

     Dan laughed. “Phil, shut up. It’s Jenna, and it’s me. She’ll move on to some jock-type and I’ll… do what I’ve always done.”

     “Which is?”

     “Be alone.”

     Phil snorted. “Stop with that.”

     “What?” Dan asked, too defensive.

     “Stop acting like nobody likes to be around you, Dan,” Phil said, sitting up. “You act like you don’t have any friends, or like we all secretly can’t stand you. I haven’t known them that long but I can safely say that not one of them, not Caspar or Cat or anyone, think badly of you. Especially not me.”

     “That’s not the point. I’ve had two girlfriends, and they didn’t stick. You know why? Because I feel shitty the majority of the time, and I bring people down,” Dan said. His tone left no room for a disagreement. “I can’t help it. I’m too awkward, I care too much, I’m too loud or too quiet. I can’t win and eventually you and everyone else will see that I’m just not _worth_ all the hassle, just like those girls did.”

     Phil grabbed Dan’s hand, and held fast. “Shut up. I’m not kidding. Teenage relationships rarely last, it doesn’t mean you’re worthless. Do you think I feel fantastic 100% of the time? No. But I try to be happy, because what else can I do? What’s the point of showing that unhappiness when it won’t do anything to solve it?” Dan stayed silent, intensely aware of their joined hands. A shared room, sure; a shared carton of ice cream is nothing. They hadn’t held hands, ever.

     “I get not being happy, Dan. God, I get it. I’ve been through so much garbage.” Phil looked at their hands. Dan was stunned that he was somehow keeping himself from trembling. “You know, the weeks before we met were pretty bad for me. I lost a good friend of mine the beginning of the year, and that party was just a stupid thing my parents were insisting I go to. Get out of the house and see living people. But then you came, and I didn’t see anyone but you.”

     Dan couldn’t breathe. His heart was moving too fast in his chest. Was he breathing? If not he would be unconscious soon, right? And then he would be saved from this situation?

     “Phil, I—”

     “You helped me. I know you don’t believe that but you did. You _do_.”

     Dan stood up, shaking his hand from Phil’s grasp. Was his stomach supposed to feel this way? Honestly, it was atrocious. “Phil,” he repeated, “I can’t do this, okay? I’m not—This isn’t me. I date girls.”

     “Dan, just wait a sec—”

     He stepped away from Phil’s reach. “No. No. We’re friends, yeah? And it’s been good? So good. Why did you have to go and… Why’d you have to say that stuff?”

     “I didn’t intend to, Dan, I just needed to tell you,” Phil said, quiet. “You mean so much to me and we haven’t even known each other all that long a time…”

     “Yeah, I know, I’ve been here,” Dan snapped. Phil flinched and Dan wanted to die. “I—I have to go.” He began to walk away from Phil and the lake, feeling ill and afraid he would throw up in a shrub. He was more afraid that if he stayed he would say something else cruel, something he didn’t mean.

     “Dan, please,” Phil called.

     Dan didn’t stop, though he did nearly trip over his own clownish feet. Hands in his messy hair, Phil closed his eyes.

     Neither of them saw the sunrise, Dan’s head buried between his pillows and Phil’s under his blankets.

***

     Dan didn’t want to get out of bed. But he knew from experience that that would solve nothing, and that he also had a job to do and couldn’t afford to cop out because of a fight he had with a guy he met in June. Plus an unaware PJ threw a pillow at his head to wake him up and it had done the trick. (The second time. He refused to get up early for breakfast, but PJ had returned to the room to make sure Dan was ready. He wasn’t.)

     He did wake up in time to work anyway, but that didn’t mean Dan was cured. He felt like shit, and his night had been dreamless. It had been hours of blank darkness, and it was such a blessed relief that he didn’t want to have to be conscious when he opened his eyes to sunlight (and PJ’s aggravation).

     Dan pushed through the day, and when noon finally slipped around it felt as though time had been slathered in molasses. It was horrific. And so it went.

     By shift’s end, Dan wanted to go back to his bed and not wake up for the rest of the summer. Maybe the year. Or his life. No big deal. On his way back to his room, he very nearly bumped into Phil, but avoided him by ducking into the landscaping. He didn’t look as bad as Dan felt, and Dan wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or unhappy. Why wasn’t Phil upset? Distraught? Unhinged? Why did Dan have to be the one he dumped his feelings on and then left to feel so awful?

     But Phil couldn’t help that, could he? Feelings couldn’t be controlled, for the most part, and from what he knew of Phil Dan could say with certainty that he hadn’t _meant_ to upset Dan. He didn’t deserve to feel bad. Phil may be the last person on the earth who deserves that, honestly. So Dan ignored that selfish little part of his brain and took a nap, hoping to ease away the swirls of confusion and anger that seemed to have taken up permanent residence inside of him.


	8. Friday, August 12th – What I’ve Been Looking For

     Phil and Dan didn’t talk anymore. It was too hard for them, and as difficult as it was both thought it easier if they simply let the other alone. Dan missed Phil, of course; he’d gotten used to him being around. More than _used to_ —he _expected_ to have Phil there, every day. Phil was the same, but he wasn’t about to confront Dan about it. That hadn’t gone over so well the first time.

     Dan could see that Phil was trying to move forward with the summer, admiringly, in an effort to pretend that everything that had happened had not actually happened the week before. Maybe it was for the best. It was hard enough to be around Phil when Dan had throughout the beginning of the summer been able to pretend like he didn’t know Phil’s feelings. But the admission had left no room for Dan to slither out from and he’d felt trapped. Phil deserved better.

     And it looked like he’d found it. The start of the new week brought Tyler and Phil closer, their friendship stinging Dan in a way he couldn’t have expected. It was good for Phil to find someone else, someone better for a friend. Dan wasn’t it. And if he ended up liking Tyler, who was already gay, he had a way better shot at getting him, right? Rather than Dan, who… wasn’t gay. But was Phil? Dan hadn’t even asked before dashing away in a pansy Sonic fashion. He had to shrug it away. It didn’t matter, did it? Phil could do what he wanted, and so could Tyler. And if that happened to be each other—Dan slammed the door on that train of thought.

     “Quick question,” Caspar said during their short dinner break.

     Dan poked at his broccoli. He didn’t care for it all that much and the jabbing was cathartic. “What?”

     “Phil hasn’t been hanging around for a while. What’s that about?”

     “Maybe he just got sick of me,” Dan said. “Maybe I got sick of him. Do you really need a reason?”

     Caspar propped back off of the countertop he’d been leaning on. “Uh, alrighty then. It seemed a simple enough question; didn’t think you’d freak on me.” He and Cat exchanged a glance.

     “All he’s saying is, I think,” the latter tried, “is that you guys were pretty inseparable just last week, and I know we all miss him…”

     “Yeah, Phil was great, I know,” Dan said sharply. Well, it came out in a snappy way but a tinge of hurt escaped as well and he wished it hadn’t, or that his friends hadn’t heard.

     “Well, whatever it was couldn’t have been that bad, right?” Zoe asked.

     “Wouldn’t count on it.” They all looked at Dan expectantly. Dan shook his head. “We don’t have all night. Let’s get back to work.” He dropped his plate into the sink, walking out before they could say anything else. This summer was never-ending.

***

     Dan knew she was watching him.

     “Cat,” he said, “please, would you quit staring at me.”

     “What for? You’ve been acting so weird I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said.

     “What d’you mean; of course I’d notice! Stop.” Dan moved around on his pool chair. Cat was life-guarding and he was sat beside her, as he sometimes did on a slow day. “I get enough from PJ.”

     “I wonder why,” Cat muttered. She gazed around, sunglasses in place, and spotted a specific Mourey sibling that Dan had tried his best to avoid these past weeks. “Jenna, dead ahead.”

     Dan groaned. “I suppose she’s staring at me as well.”

     “You’d suppose correctly. I wish she’d give it up already.”

     “You and me both.”

     “And there’s Phil,” Cat observed. Dan opened his eyes and saw that it was indeed Phil, on the other side of the pool. He was walking with Tyler, as he usually was these days, and on Tyler’s other side was his sister. Dan couldn’t even begin to explain how insane it felt to see them all together. What a nightmare. “Have you spoken to him?”

     “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Dan demanded. “No. I haven’t talked to Phil. Are you happy?”

     Cat looked down at him with raised eyebrows. “Of course I’m not happy about it. You clearly aren’t so why should _I_ be at all happy about it?”

     “Would you all just leave it alone?”

     “You haven’t even told any of us what happened! We talk to Phil so much less since whatever it is happened _happened_ and whenever we do, for however brief a time, he works around it!” Cat said. She was getting frustrated with Dan, though she of all the friends had infinite patience, but her usually calm voice was becoming a tad louder than normal. She could blame this on her being sat three feet above him and needing him to hear her. “When are you going to just tell us what went down between you?”

     Dan watched Phil and Tyler (and Jenna) walking. He wanted to jump into the pool and maybe not resurface. He got up and headed for the staff’s sleeping quarters. He didn’t even look back to see the disbelief on Cat’s face.

***

     Dan fought his way through the last hours of the night, all the while refusing to respond to the searching looks from his friends, all the while painfully aware that they didn’t deserve this. He was the one who was so insanely pitiful, and they were just trying to understand what was going on with him. It wasn’t like he was being particularly subtle with his current state, acting more miserable than his normal and not even going to the lake every night anymore. He wasn’t himself, but Dan wasn’t sure what that would even entail. He didn’t know who he was, he hardly ever had, but he was sure that this was just another stone he had to trip over. He’d keep moving. He always did.

     PJ walked in a few minutes after Dan had already gotten back to their room to change into pyjamas. He was in bed on the computer, his gratitude at having received the Wi-Fi password for L.S. never ending. Tumblr couldn’t wait.

     “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been such a prick lately?” PJ asked. He stood at the foot of Dan’s bed with his arms crossed. He looked more serious than Dan was used to, though he had to admit that if it had been Caspar it would’ve been even weirder.

     “It’s just my personality,” he said.

     “Oh, rubbish,” PJ dismissed. “Cat told me about the pool today.”

     Dan laughed, a harsh sound in their silent room. “You’re all gossiping about me now, are you?”

     “It’s not gossip if we’re worried about you, Dan,” PJ said, his hands in the air. He was becoming exasperated. “You saw Phil and clammed up, and we can’t even decipher why because _you_ won’t let us in on the joke.”

     “What joke? There’s no joke except me,” Dan said. He moved the laptop from his legs onto the duvet beside him. “I’m the tool, _I’m_ the dumbass.”

     “And why’s that?”

     Dan shoved to his feet. He wanted to be anywhere but here. “Oh, fuck off.”

     “No, Dan, really, enlighten me,” PJ insisted. He was blocking Dan’s way out. “Why are you a dumbass, this time?”

     “Stop pretending like you don’t all know,” Dan said, severe. “I am so _sick_ of this bullshit. Don’t forget Chris is the actor around here, not any of the rest of you.”

     “Try making sense,” PJ suggested.

     “You and I both know, PJ: You understand perfectly what I mean.” Dan pulled his hair back from his face, shaking his head. “Jesus, it’s pathetic.”

     PJ stared at Dan. “What the hell are you raving on about it?”

     “Me and Phil,” Dan clarified. His throat was tight. PJ stood still, not sure what to do. If this was Dan’s admission… “I know you all thought we were—that we were more than—”

     “What were we supposed to think?” PJ questioned. “Dan, you smiled. Laughed. As stupid as it sounds, you glowed around Phil. Blazed.” Dan nearly choked. _danisnotonfire_. “We didn’t think anything until well into getting to know him, anyway; we didn’t just assume—”

     “We weren’t sleeping together or whatever it is you thought,” Dan stated.

     “Then why don’t you talk anymore if not because of a breakup?”

     Dan sat on the bed; he felt the weight of his own head pushing him down all the way to the obnoxiously-patterned carpeting. “You weren’t off the mark, completely, about us. At least for Phil. He has feelings for me.”

     PJ nodded slowly, digesting this. He wasn’t very surprised so much at the knowledge of Phil’s liking Dan, but at the fact that Dan had admitted it aloud to someone. “Okay,” PJ said. “And you don’t feel the same, I take it?”

     “I can’t,” Dan said. “It’s… It’s not me.”

     “What? Being happy?”

     Dan made a sound of aggravation. “No! Dating a guy. _I’m_ a guy. Do you know what that would do to my parents? My family? I can’t do this to them. I can’t.”

     “Stop saying you _can’t_. You’re making a choice to be unhappy, Dan, that’s what you’re doing. You’re masking it, as you do everything else, like some kind of martyr’s sacrifice.”

     “That isn’t—”

     “Yes, it is. You either want to be honest, or you don’t,” said PJ. “Which is it?”

     “It isn’t that simple!” Dan maintained, his voice loud. “I can’t just turn my life upside down for this person I only just met!” PJ made a face that clearly said Dan’s argument was weak and meant nothing. But it _did_. Come on. He’d only run into Phil a couple months ago. That was hardly any time. It wasn’t a big deal so PJ shouldn’t be making it one.

     But he did know a lot about Phil, didn’t he? All the little things friends knew about one another Dan had come to learn in three weeks, and they’d even joked that if there were a test on the life of Phil Lester, Dan would pass with flying colors. Favorite color, movie, sleeping position, superhero? Day of birth and time, family members’ names; Dan could list off facts in record time. Phil was the same when it came to Dan. In all truth, they probably knew more about each other than some couples who’d been dating for the same amount of time did.

     “I’d say you know Phil better than you know me,” PJ said. Only a little bit of hurt came through in his words. Dan looked at him, where he stood across the room.

     “That’s not true.”

     PJ shook his head. “Dan, I’m not trying to fight with you. It isn’t really a bad thing, especially since _I’m_ not the one you want to be with in the way you want to be with Phil.”

     “And you just deduced this in the five minutes we’ve spoken of him?”

     “No, I’ve _deduced_ it from the weeks we all spent subjected to watching you two together,” PJ told him.

     Dan knotted his fingers. “I don’t know what to do.”

     “Telling Phil how you feel would be a good starting point.”

     “It isn’t that simple,” Dan repeated, his voice more tired now than angry. “I don’t even know who I am. I never have. I’ve only ever pretended to have a grip on my life and meeting Phil’s sent me… spiraling.” He looked at PJ. “I thought he made everything better. I thought he made _me_ better. But with all that’s happened I… I have no clue.”

     “Everyone gets confused, Dan,” PJ said. “It isn’t just you.”

     “It sure feels that way.” Dan breathed in. “I care more about Phil than I thought I would.”

     PJ huffed out a laugh. “It’s called having feelings, Dan, and as foreign a concept as that is to you, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

     “I don’t think my parents would agree with you in this case.”

     “Screw your family, Dan. No offense. But if they can’t accept this tiny bit of who you are… having them in your life probably isn’t even worth it.”

     Dan stood up, keenly aware of his hunched shoulders. He only ever did that to make shorter people feel less small, and because he himself didn’t want to appear gigantic. Around Phil, he’d stood up tall.

     “I’m starved,” he said. “You think using my kitchen key at midnight is frowned upon?”

     “How should I know? Just don’t get caught and I’d say you’re golden.” He slapped a hand to Dan’s shoulder with a small smile. “It’s going to be okay.”

     “I’m sure they won’t kick me out of a job for taking food late.” PJ gave him a look, and Dan nodded. “Yeah," he said, in a way that let PJ know he'd understood. "Now get out of my way. Ice cream waits for no man. Or me.” PJ excused this self-deprecation and let Dan pass for the door. He sent a quick smile back at him in thanks to his friend for being there. PJ nodded once, and that was that.

     Dan retrieved the ice cream container, the tub he and Phil had hidden in the farthest depths of the walk-in freezer just so that it could remain for the two of them. There was about a quarter left inside, and Dan felt almost guilty eating it without Phil. He did anyway. He got a spoon and sat on top of the counter next to one of the two dishwashers.

     _I care more about Phil than I thought I would._

Dan sighed. This hadn’t exactly been the summer he’d had in mind. In some ways, it was better, and in others… He wondered if Dan and Phil’s short story was actually at its end, if they were going to part ways after this month and never see one another again. Dan’s stomach hurt. He attested this to not eating for hours and dug into the ice cream. It was Neapolitan, and he and Phil had made sure while they ate it to leave a bit of each flavor intact for later enjoyment. Really planned ahead with this one. Unfortunately, that meant Dan had a lot of ice cream to eat and a lot of time to do so. And no one to stop him either.

     He had the spoon in his mouth, a compromising position, when a yawning Tyler came barging in. Well, he really only walked in but to Dan it was a serious intrusion.

     Tyler took note of Dan’s seat on the countertop and the tub of ice cream on his thighs. “Hey, Dan.”

     “Hey, Tyler.”

     “What’re you doing?”

     Dan tried to smile, awkward as ever. “I… could ask you the same, yeah?”

     “Got hungry,” Tyler replied simply. “Here I am. I assume the same goes for you?”

     “Correct.” Dan shook his head. “Late night. Weird night.”

     “I can appreciate that. Though you really shouldn’t be in here…” Dan froze with his mouth open, and Tyler held up his hand from where he stood at the open fridge. “I’m kidding. You’re all… tense. What’s up?”

     “Like I said, tonight’s been weird,” Dan said slowly. “Weirder than usual, I mean.”

     “How’s that?” Tyler grinned. “Sorry. No need to tell me if you don’t want to. Jenna says I do that sometimes, push where I’m unwanted.”

     Dan had to laugh at that. “ _Jenna_ says that? This really has been the craziest… No, it’s nothing. I just sort of…” How could he tell Tyler about Phil? They were probably together now and talking about this with Phil’s new boyfriend couldn’t be normal. And if they were happy was it Dan’s place to suddenly shove in and ruin it? No. Not even a little.

     “You were right,” he told Tyler. “Those weeks ago, at golf, when you said I might find someone here.”

     “No way!” Tyler shut the fridge and instead with wide, intrigued eyes began to make some hot chocolate. “Tell me everything. Is she cute?”

     “Not a she.”

     Tyler’s mouth opened in a huge smile. “Oh, this is too good. So you really are—”

     “No, I’m not—gay. I don’t know what I am,” Dan told him honestly. “I—As of right now, all I can tell you is that I might have feelings for someone who is… of the male persuasion.”

     “Okay. That’s fine. Great. But he works here?”

     “Yes.” Dan laughed, then, cringing. “I feel like we’re at a slumber party.”

     “This is way better. So, what’s he like?” Tyler asked, then frowned. “Or would that give it away? I take it you don’t want me knowing his identity, right?”

     “Well, I don’t have to be specific. He’s, erm… He’s funny. But not in an obvious way all the time. You have to know him to get his sense of humor, I think, in some cases. And he seems all innocent or whatever but can actually be more fucked up than me when it comes to jokes or, like, general thought process.” Dan smiled. “He’s pretty. Like, actually _pretty_. I never get sick of looking at him, you know? Or listening to him talk. We did that for hours.”

      At Dan’s slight pause, Tyler laughed lightly. “Yes, this isn’t specific at all. Whoever this guy is, he sounds incredible. Speaking of amazing boys, what about you and Phil?”

      Dan couldn’t believe it. He had rambled on about Phil, so conspicuously, and Tyler really hadn’t been able to guess. “What about us?” he asked, cautious.

     “You used to spend basically all your free-time together and now, Phil hangs around me,” Tyler explained. “Not that I mind—He isn’t exactly hard to look at, and his company is always welcome, of course, but it’s just sort of odd.”

     “Wait, what? I thought—” Dan had no idea what to think. “You aren’t dating Phil?”

     “What?” Tyler actually laughed out loud, like Dan was just too much. “No. I love Phil, he’s great, but not in _that_ way for me.”

     “Are you kidding me? This entire time I—” Dan began to shake his head, disbelieving. “I have to go.”

     “Go? Where?”

     “Tyler, it’s Phil. The guy I’m—the one I’ve got feelings for,” Dan said. He didn’t think Tyler could look any more surprised than when he’d first told him about liking a boy, but here was Tyler, looking completely shocked, rocked to his core, really.

     “Okay,” he managed. “Not to ruin whatever it is you have planned, but if it was to go to Phil’s room, I’d have to advise against it. I love romance as much as the next gay but, not only is it past midnight, you were able to say for the first time how you feel like only half a second ago. Maybe waiting a bit to announce it to Phil would be a good thing.”

     “Why?”

     “So you don’t hurt him.”

     Dan thought back to when he’d abandoned Phil by the lake. _I can’t do this, okay? I date girls._

“Yeah. I… I didn’t think of that,” Dan said. “I’ll just go to sleep and wait until tomorrow. No big deal.”

     “Dan.” Tyler put a hand to Dan’s shoulder as he went to put the ice cream back into the freezer. “Dan. This is huge. I don’t mean to make it less incredible. Really, if Phil feels the same tomorrow, or whenever you talk to him, I’ll be the first to congratulate you guys.”

     Dan already knew that if he were lucky, Phil would still want him. Dan had never been very lucky, but hadn’t he gone to that party in June and been forced to karaoke with a stranger?


	9. Tuesday, August 16th – The Boys Are Back

     Dan took Tyler’s advice. Walking back to the staff quarters, closer to a sleeping Phil, he realised just how on edge he was. The last thing he wanted was to bring any more complications to Phil’s time here, and surely up and deciding to tell Phil about his newly forged path to acceptance qualified as complications. He needed sleep, desperately, and he was out all night soundly until his alarm woke him hours later for the work day.

     He wasn’t sure what to say to Phil. No idea where to begin. Dan had the entire morning and afternoon to think it over because the first time he’d caught sight of Phil on this busy Tuesday was on his walk back to his room.

     “Phil.” There was something different in saying that, Dan thought, when it was said directly to him. He’d spoken Phil’s name on occasion in the past weeks but not to Phil himself, and he’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to see Phil turn at the sound of Dan’s calling to him. Maybe more like he’d subconsciously _tried_ to not think about it and in turn forget, to make it all easier.

     But Phil did stop walking to look at Dan, taken by surprise that Dan was in fact addressing him for the first time in so long. He wanted Phil to say something, but it didn’t seem likely.

     “Can I talk to you?” he asked. His hands hung clenched at his sides. The expression on Phil’s face was tied into nonchalance as he followed Dan to the place they both knew so well: Mourey Lake. Dan had missed it so much, but going there felt wrong after losing Phil, like the lake were a _Dan and Phil_ place now instead of just Dan’s.

     “Phil,” he said again, because he wanted to. “I have to apologise.”

     “What could you have to be sorry for?” Phil replied.

     “Come on. Don’t do that. I know I fucked up, _so_ bad. It wasn’t right, what I said that night,” Dan told him, “and not true, for that matter.” Phil stayed quiet, but Dan was certain that he knew what he was referring to. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

     “If that’s the case, why’ve you let us fall apart?” Phil asked, demanding. His eyebrows were drawn together above flashing blue eyes. “You were the one offended by what I’d said. Wasn’t it up to you to come to me, during all these weeks, and let me know you didn’t hate me?”

    “It took all of this time for me to get to where I am!” Dan said. He was a little taken aback by Phil’s raised voice, but it was called for. He just needed to explain, for Phil to understand. “And how—how the hell could you think it’s possible for me to hate you? There’s nothing you could do to make that happen, ever.” He took a hesitant step forward. “Phil, I wasn’t _offended_. Even now I’m confused. But not because of you.”

     “I was confused too,” Phil said. He was quieter, then, gaze off of Dan. “I didn’t think it mattered, telling you I’m gay. I didn’t think I’d end up liking you like that so I didn’t think… I was wrong.”

     Dan understood. All the things they’d done together, the countless time passed in each other’s company… “Late-night movies and ice cream.”

     “Talking for hours, right here.” Phil stared at the water, then at Dan. It was strong enough a gaze to make Dan swallow. “I saw something in you I wanted to have.”

     “And you don’t anymore?”

     “Are you kidding me? Dan…” Phil’s voice saying Dan’s name was magic. It rang in his ears, in the air around them. Dan was sure if Phil said it over and over for the rest of his life it wouldn’t be nearly enough. “…I spent these past weeks trying to get over it. _You_. And then every time I think I might be getting there, I think of the fringe from that stupid party in June. Karaoke to Britney Spears and the stench of Malibu.”

     He had a lot to drink that night, Dan contemplated in embarrassed retrospection. Not the best of first impressions, but Phil sure hadn’t seemed to mind in the negative, if where they now stood was any indication.

     “And that helps you in moving on?” Dan asked, trying to be light.

     “I get being unsure,” Phil said with a lifted a hand, to stop Dan’s attempt. “I’ve been there. I wasn’t born with a trunk-full of confidence in who I am. I don’t even think I _am_ there yet, with everything. But the one thing I’ve known since that night was that I wanted to know you better. I thought I’d lost out when you disappeared, and running into you here felt like a sign.”

     “A sign? Of what?” Dan was hardly one to believe in the superstitious.

     “That I had to be with you,” Phil said, so simply that Dan wanted to take a seat on the bench. “Whether it ended up as friends or something else, I needed to find out who this guy Dan Howell was. You know, when he wasn’t massively drunk.”

     “I get it, I drank a bottle of Malibu,” Dan said with his hands up. “Mistakes were made.” He studied Phil’s face, his face softening into the serious. “But I never thought we were one of them. Even after… all that stuff.” Dan released a soft breath of air, then reached forward to take Phil’s hand. When he didn’t yank it back, Dan felt the tiniest bit of triumph that urged him to go on. “I’ve managed to keep myself the same all these years. Dating girls, talking about girls, acting like I don’t… think or feel what I do if I see a guy looking at me. You know. It was getting old before I happened to meet you, but getting to know you made it all ten times more difficult to ignore.” Dan hadn’t said any of this aloud to another person before, not even himself. And here he was, stood at 11 in the night to tell it all to one of the few he knew wouldn’t abandon him for it.

     “I didn’t date girls just to look straight, but I can say now that looking at you, talking to you—fuck, just being around you every day felt right. And they never did.” Dan looked at their hands. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. I was blind and didn’t want to see what I knew to be true.”

     “That you’re not straight?” Phil asked with a gentle laugh.

     “Well, yeah, that. _And_ … well, I… I love you. I love you way too much for my own sanity, to be honest.” Dan tore his eyes up to look at Phil. “It’s crazy. And probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, falling for you like this over one summer, but I don’t care. Not anymore, at least.”

     “You’re serious?” Phil said, eyes bright. Dan couldn’t articulate how much he had missed those eyes. They were blue and green and speckled with yellow and it was completely unfair.

     “Fuck, I am, yeah. I am.”

     Phil nodded, his lip protruded in exaggerated thought. “Then I guess it’s pretty lucky for you that I love you back.”

     “You aren’t shitting me?”

     “I’d certainly hope not—”

     Dan took it upon himself to kiss Phil, quite shocked at the brashness of the action considering all that had happened. He shoved it aside, really only aware of the feeling that shivered down his legs when Phil held his neck.

     “That was a long time coming, huh?” he said, unable to comprehend that he no longer had to restrain himself and could touch Phil’s cheeks just because he wanted to.

     “I’d have to concede hearty agreement.” Phil glanced around slowly, smiling. “And, you know, we’ve yet to see that sunrise. What d’you say?”

     Dan dropped his hand to meet Phil’s, carefully weaving their fingers together. “Let’s do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an idea to make a Phan AU for High School Musical, and it spiraled into whatever this is lol I hope you enjoy it :D


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